THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 


Gladys  Wickson 

Ida  Wickson  Thomas 

Ednah  Wickson  Kelly 


/},/?, 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 


BY 


HENRY    JAMES 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
1901 


COPYRIGHT,  1901,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK 


THE   SACRED    FOUNT 


i 

T  T  was  an  occasion,  I  felt — the  prospect  of  a  large 
-*•  party — to  look  out  at  the  station  for  others, 
possible  friends  and  even  possible  enemies,  who 
might  be  going.  Such  premonitions,  it  was  true, 
bred  fears  when  they  failed  to  breed  hopes,  though 
it  was  to  be  added  that  there  were  sometimes,  in 
the  case,  rather  happy  ambiguities.  One  was 
glowered  at,  in  the  compartment,  by  people  who 
on  the  morrow,  after  breakfast,  were  to  prove 
charming;  one  was  spoken  to  first  by  people  whose 
sociability  was  subsequently  to  show  as  bleak;  and 
one  built  with  confidence  on  others  who  were  never 
to  reappear  at  all — who  were  only  going  to  Birming- 
ham. As  soon  as  I  saw  Gilbert  Long,  some  way  up 
the  platform,  however,  I  knew  him  as  an  element. 
It  was  not  so  much  that  the  wish  was  father  to  the 
thought  as  that  I  remembered  having  already  more 
than  once  met  him  at  Newmarch.  He  was  a  friend 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

of  the  house — he  wouldn't  be  going  to  Birming- 
ham. I  so  little  expected  him,  at  the  same  time, 
to  recognise  me  that  I  stopped  short  of  the  carriage 
near  which  he  stood — I  looked  for  a  seat  that 
wouldn't  make  us  neighbours. 

I  had  met  him  at  Newmarch  only — a  place  of  a 
charm  so  special  as  to  create  rather  a  bond  among 
its  guests;  but  he  had  always,  in  the  interval,  so 
failed  to  know  me  that  I  could  only  hold  him  as 
stupid  unless  I  held  him  as  impertinent.  He  was 
stupid  in  fact,  and  in  that  character  had  no  business 
at  Newmarch;  but  he  had  also,  no  doubt,  his  sys- 
tem, which  he  applied  without  discernment.  I 
wondered,  while  I  saw  my  things  put  into  my  cor- 
ner, what  Newmarch  could  see  in  him — for  it  always 
had  to  see  something  before  it  made  a  sign.  His 
good  looks,  which  were  striking,  perhaps  paid  his 
way — his  six  feet  and  more  of  stature,  his  low-grow- 
ing, tight-curling  hair,  his  big,  bare,  blooming  face. 
He  was  a  fine  piece  of  human  furniture — he  made 
a  small  party  seem  more  numerous.  This,  at  least, 
was  the  impression  of  him  that  had  revived  before 
I  stepped  out  again  to  the  platform,  and  it  armed 
me  only  at  first  with  surprise  when  I  saw  him  come 
down  to  me  as  if  for  a  greeting.  If  he  had  decided 
at  last  to  treat  me  as  an  acquaintance  made,  it  was 
none  the  less  a  case  for  letting  him  come  all  the 
way.  That,  accordingly,  was  what  he  did,  and 
with  so  clear  a  conscience,  I  hasten  to  add,  that 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

at  the  end  of  a  minute  we  were  talking  together 
quite  as  with  the  tradition  of  prompt  intimacy.  He 
was  good-looking  enough,  I  now  again  saw,  but  not 
such  a  model  of  it  as  I  had  seemed  to  remember; 
on  the  other  hand  his  manners  had  distinctly  gained 
in  ease.  He  referred  to  our  previous  encounters 
and  common  contacts — he  was  glad  I  was  going; 
he  peeped  into  my  compartment  and  thought  it  bet- 
ter than  his  own.  He  called  a  porter,  the  next  min- 
ute, to  shift  his  things,  and  while  his  attention  was 
so  taken  I  made  out  some  of  the  rest  of  the  con- 
tingent, who  were  finding  or  had  already  found 
places. 

This  lasted  till  Long  came  back  with  his  porter, 
as  well  as  with  a  lady  unknown  to  me  and  to  whom 
he  had  apparently  mentioned  that  our  carriage 
would  pleasantly  accommodate  her.  The  porter 
carried  in  fact  her  dressing-bag,  which  he  put  upon 
a  seat  and  the  bestowal  of  which  left  the  lady  pres- 
ently free  to  turn  to  me  with  a  reproach :  "  I  don't 
think  it  very  nice  of  you  not  to  speak  to  me."  I 
stared,  then  caught  at  her  identity  through  her 
voice;  after  which  I  reflected  that  she  might  easily 
have  thought  me  the  same  sort  of  ass  as  I  had 
thought  Long.  For  she  was  simply,  it  appeared, 
Grace  Brissenden.  We  had,  the  three  of  us,  the 
carriage  to  ourselves,  and  we  journeyed  together 
for  more  than  an  hour,  during  which,  in  my  corner, 
I  had  my  companions  opposite.  We  began  at  first 

3 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

by  talking  a  little,  and  then  as  the  train — a  fast  one 
— ran  straight  and  proportionately  bellowed,  we 
gave  up  the  effort  to  compete  with  its  music. 
Meantime,  however,  we  had  exchanged  with  each 
other  a  fact  or  two  to  turn  over  in  silence.  Brissen- 
den  was  coming  later — not,  indeed,  that  that  was 
such  a  fact.  But  his  wife  was  informed — she  knew 
about  the  numerous  others;  she  had  mentioned, 
while  we  waited,  people  and  things:  that  Obert, 
R.A.,  was  somewhere  in  the  train,  that  her  husband 
was  to  bring  on  Lady  John,  and  that  Mrs.  Froome 
and  Lord  Lutley  were  in  the  wondrous  new  fashion 
— and  their  servants  too,  like  a  single  household — 
starting,  travelling,  arriving  together.  It  came 
back  to  me  as  I  sat  there  that  when  she  mentioned 
Lady  John  as  in  charge  of  Brissenden  the  other 
member  of  our  trio  had  expressed  interest  and  sur- 
prise— expressed  it  so  as  to  have  made  her  reply 
with  a  smile:  "Didn't  you  really  know?"  This 
passage  had  taken  place  on  the  platform  while, 
availing  ourselves  of  our  last  minute,  we  hung  about 
our  door. 

"  Why  in  the  world  should  I  know?  " 
To  which,  with  good  nature,  she  had  simply  re- 
turned :  "  Oh,  it's  only  that  I  thought  you  always 
did !  "  And  they  both  had  looked  at  me  a  little 
oddly,  as  if  appealing  from  each  other.  "  What 
in  the  world  does  she  mean?"  Long  might  have 
seemed  to  ask;  while  Mrs.  Brissenden  conveyed 

4 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

with  light  profundity :  "  You  know  why  he  should 
as  well  as  I,  don't  you?  "  In  point  of  fact  I  didn't 
in  the  least;  and  what  afterwards  struck  me  much 
more  as  the  beginning  of  my  anecdote  was  a  word 
dropped  by  Long  after  someone  had  come  up  to 
speak  to  her.  I  had  then  given  him  his  cue  by 
alluding  to  my  original  failure  to  place  her.  What 
in  the  world,  in  the  year  or  two,  had  happened  to 
her?  She  had  changed  so  extraordinarily  for  the 
better.  How  could  a  woman  who  had  been  plain 
so  long  become  pretty  so  late? 

It  was  just  what  he  had  been  wondering.  "  I 
didn't  place  her  at  first  myself.  She  had  to  speak 
to  me.  But  I  hadn't  seen  her  since  her  marriage, 
which  was — wasn't  it? — four  or  five  years  ago. 
She's  amazing  for  her  age." 

"What  then  is  her  age?" 

"  Oh — two  or  three-and-forty." 

"  She's  prodigious  for  that.  But  can  it  be  so 
great?" 

"Isn't  it  easy  to  count?"  he  asked.  "Don't 
you  remember,  when  poor  Briss  married  her,  how 
immensely  she  was  older?  What  was  it  they  called 
it? — a  case  of  child-stealing.  Everyone  made  jokes. 
Briss  isn't  yet  thirty."  No,  I  bethought  myself,  he 
wouldn't  be;  but  I  hadn't  remembered  the  differ- 
ence as  so  great.  What  I  had  mainly  remembered 
was  that  she  had  been  rather  ugly.  At  present  she 
was  rather  handsome.  Long,  however,  as  to  this, 

5 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

didn't  agree.     "  I'm  bound  to  say  I  don't  quite  call 
it  beauty." 

"  Oh,  I  only  speak  of  it  as  relative.  She 
looks  so  well — and  somehow  so  '  fine/  Why  else 
shouldn't  we  have  recognised  her?  " 

"  Why  indeed?  But  it  isn't  a  thing  with  which 
beauty  has  to  do."  He  had  made  the  matter  out 
with  an  acuteness  for  which  I  shouldn't  have  given 
him  credit.  "  What  has  happened  to  her  is  simply 
that — well,  that  nothing  has." 

"  Nothing  has  happened?  But,  my  dear  man, 
she  has  been  married.  That's  supposed  to  be  some- 
thing." 

'''  Yes,  but  she  has  been  married  so  little  and  so 
stupidly.  It  must  be  desperately  dull  to  be  mar- 
ried to  poor  Briss.  His  comparative  youth  doesn't, 
after  all,  make  more  of  him.  He's  nothing  but 
what  he  is.  Her  clock  has  simply  stopped.  She 
looks  no  older — that's  all." 

"  Ah,  and  a  jolly  good  thing  too,  when  you  start 
where  she  did.  But  I  take  your  discrimination,"  I 
added,  "  as  just.  The  only  thing  is  that  if  a  woman 
doesn't  grow  older  she  may  be  said  to  grow 
younger;  and  if  she  grows  younger  she  may  be 
supposed  to  grow  prettier.  That's  all — except,  of 
course,  that  it  strikes  me  as  charming  also  for  Bris- 
senden  himself.  He  had  the  face,  I  seem  to  recall, 
of  a  baby;  so  that  if  his  wife  did  flaunt  her  fifty 

years ! " 

6 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  Oh,"  Long  broke  in,  "  it  wouldn't  have  mat- 
tered to  him  if  she  had.  That's  the  awfulness,  don't 
you  see?  of  the  married  state.  People  have  to  get 
used  to  each  other's  charms  as  well  as  to  their 
faults.  He  wouldn't  have  noticed.  It's  only  you 
and  I  who  do,  and  the  charm  of  it  is  for  us." 

"  What  a  lucky  thing  then,"  I  laughed,  "  that, 
with  Brissenden  so  out  of  it  and  relegated  to  the 
time-table's  obscure  hereafter,  it  should  be  you  and 
I  who  enjoy  her !  "  I  had  been  struck  in  what  he 
said  with  more  things  than  I  could  take  up,  and  I 
think  I  must  have  looked  at  him,  while  he  talked, 
with  a  slight  return  of  my  first  mystification.  He 
talked  as  I  had  never  heard  him — less  and  less  like 
the  heavy  Adonis  who  had  so  often  "  cut  "  me;  and 
while  he  did  so  I  was  proportionately  more  con- 
scious of  the  change  in  him.  He  noticed  in  fact 
after  a  little  the  vague  confusion  of  my  gaze  and 
asked  me — with  complete  good  nature — why  I 
stared  at  him  so  hard.  I  sufficiently  disembroiled 
myself  to  reply  that  I  could  only  be  fascinated  by 
the  way  he  made  his  points;  to  which  he — with  the 
same  sociability — made  answer  that  he,  on  the  con- 
trary, more  than  suspected  me,  clever  and  critical 
as  I  was,  of  amusement  at  his  artless  prattle.  He 
stuck  none  the  less  to  his  idea  that  what  we  had 
been  discussing  was  lost  on  Brissenden.  "  Ah, 
then  I  hope,"  I  said,  "that  at  least  Lady  John 
isn't!" 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  Oh,  Lady  John !"     And  he  turned  away 

as  if  there  were  either  too  much  or  too  little  to  say 
about  her. 

I  found  myself  engaged  again  with  Mrs.  Briss 
while  he  was  occupied  with  a  newspaper-boy — and 
engaged,  oddly,  in  very  much  the  free  view  of  him 
that  he  and  I  had  just  taken  of  herself.  She  put 
it  to  me  frankly  that  she  had  never  seen  a  man  so 
improved:  a  confidence  that  I  met  with  alacrity, 
as  it  showed  me  that,  under  the  same  impression, 
I  had  not  been  astray.  She  had  only,  it  seemed, 
on  seeing  him,  made  him  out  with  a  great  effort.  I 
took  in  this  confession,  but  I  repaid  it.  "  He  hinted 
to  me  that  he  had  not  known  you  more  easily." 

"  More  easily  than  you  did?  Oh,  nobody  does 
that;  and,  to  be  quite  honest,  I've  got  used  to  it 
and  don't  mind.  People  talk  of  our  changing 
every  seven  years,  but  they  make  me  feel  as  if  I 
changed  every  seven  minutes.  What  will  you  have, 
at  any  rate,  and  how  can  I  help  it?  It's  the  grind 
of  life,  the  wear  and  tear  of  time  and  misfortune. 
And,  you  know,  I'm  ninety-three." 

"  How  young  you  must  feel,"  I  answered,  "  to 
care  to  talk  of  your  age !  I  envy  you,  for  nothing 
would  induce  me  to  let  you  know  mine.  You  look, 
you  see,  just  twenty-five." 

It  evidently  too,  what  I  said,  gave  her  pleasure — 
a  pleasure  that  she  caught  and  held.  "  Well,  you 
can't  say  I  dress  it." 

8 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

"  No,  you  dress,  I  make  out,  ninety-three.  If 
you  would  only  dress  twenty-five  you'd  look  fif- 
teen/' 

"  Fifteen  in  a  schoolroom  charade ! "  She 
laughed  at  this  happily  enough.  "  Your  compli- 
ment to  my  taste  is  odd.  I  know,  at  all  events," 
she  went  on,  "  what's  the  difference  in  Mr.  Long." 

"  Be  so  good  then,  for  my  relief,  as  to  name  it." 

"  Well,  a  very  clever  woman  has  for  some  time 
past " 

"  Taken  " — this  beginning  was  of  course  enough 
— "  a  particular  interest  in  him?  Do  you  mean 
Lady  John?  "  I  inquired;  and,  as  she  evidently  did, 
I  rather  demurred.  "  Do  you  call  Lady  John  a 
very  clever  woman?  " 

"  Surely.  That's  why  I  kindly  arranged  that,  as 
she  was  to  take,  I  happened  to  learn,  the  next 
train,  Guy  should  come  with  her." 

"You  arranged  it?"  I  wondered.  "She's  not 
so  clever  as  you  then." 

"  Because  you  feel  that  she  wouldn't,  or  couldn't? 
No  doubt  she  wouldn't  have  made  the  same  point 
of  it — for  more  than  one  reason.  Poor  Guy  hasn't 
pretensions — has  nothing  but  his  youth  and  his 
beauty.  But  that's  precisely  why  I'm  sorry  for  him 
and  try  whenever  I  can  to  give  him  a  lift.  Lady 
John's  company  is,  you  see,  a  lift." 

'  You  mean  it  has  so  unmistakably  been  one  to 
Long?  " 

9 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  Yes — it  has  positively  given  him  a  mind  and  a 
tongue.  That's  what  has  come  over  him." 

"  Then,"  I  said,  "  it's  a  most  extraordinary  case 
— such  as  one  really  has  never  met." 

"  Oh,  but,"  she  objected,  "  it  happens." 

"  Ah,  so  very  seldom !  Yes — I've  positively 
never  met  it.  Are  you  very  sure,"  I  insisted,  "  that 
Lady  John  is  the  influence?  " 

"  I  don't  mean  to  say,  of  course,"  she  replied, 
"  that  he  looks  fluttered  if  you  mention  her,  that 
he  doesn't  in  fact  look  as  blank  as  a  pickpocket. 
But  that  proves  nothing — or  rather,  as  they're 
known  to  be  always  together,  and  she  from  morn- 
ing till  night  as  pointed  as  a  hat-pin,  it  proves  just 
what  one  sees.  One  simply  takes  it  in." 

I  turned  the  picture  round.  "  They're  scarcely 
together  when  she's  together  with  Brissenden." 

"  Ah,  that's  only  once  in  a  way.  It's  a  thing 
that  from  time  to  time  such  people — don't  you 
know? — make  a  particular  point  of:  they  cultivate, 
to  cover  their  game,  the  appearance  of  other  little 
friendships.  It  puts  outsiders  off  the  scent,  and 
the  real  thing  meanwhile  goes  on.  Besides,  you 
yourself  acknowledge  the  effect.  If  she  hasn't 
made  him  clever,  what  has  she  made  him?  She 
has  given  him,  steadily,  more  and  more  intellect." 

"  Well,  you  may  be  right,"  I  laughed,  "  though 
you  speak  as  if  it  were  cod-liver  oil.  Does  she  ad- 
minister it,  as  a  daily  dose,  by  the  spoonful?  or 

10 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

only  as  a  drop  at  a  time?  Does  he  take  it  in  his 
food?  Is  he  supposed  to  know?  The  difficulty 
for  me  is  simply  that  if  I've  seen  the  handsome 
grow  ugly  and  the  ugly  handsome,  the  fat  grow 
thin  and  the  thin  fat,  the  short  grow  long  and  the 
long  short;  if  I've  even,  likewise,  seen  the  clever, 
as  I've  too  fondly,  at  least,  supposed  them,  grow 
stupid  :  so  have  I  not  seen  —  no,  not  once  in  all  my 
days  —  the  stupid  grow  clever." 

It  was  a  question,  none  the  less,  on  which  she 
could  perfectly  stand  up.  "  All  I  can  say  is  then 
that  you'll  have,  the  next  day  or  two,  an  interest- 
ing new  experience." 

"  It  will  be  interesting,"  I  declared  while  I 
thought  —  "  and  all  the  more  if  I  make  out  for  my- 
self that  Lady  John  is  the  agent." 

"  You'll  make  it  out  if  you  talk  to  her  —  that  is, 
I  mean,  if  you  make  her  talk.  You'll  see  how  she 


"  She  keeps  her  wit  then,"  I  asked,  "  in  spite  of 
all  she  pumps  into  others?  " 

"  Oh,  she  has  enough  for  two  !  " 

"  I'm  immensely  struck  with  yours,"  I  replied, 
"  as  well  as  with  your  generosity.  I've  seldom 
seen  a  woman  take  so  handsome  a  view  of  an- 
other." 

"  It's  because  I  like  to  be  kind  !  "  she  said  with 
the  best  faith  in  the  world;  to  which  I  could  only 
return,  as  we  entered  the  train,  that  it  was  a  kind- 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

ness  Lady  John  would  doubtless  appreciate.  Long 
rejoined  us,  and  we  ran,  as  I  have  said,  our  course; 
which,  as  I  have  also  noted,  seemed  short  to  me 
in  the  light  of  such  a  blaze  of  suggestion.  To 
each  of  my  companions — and  the  fact  stuck  out  of 
them — something  unprecedented  had  happened. 


12 


II 


THE  day  was  as  fine  and  the  scene  as  fair  at 
Newmarch  as  the  party  was  numerous  and 
various;  and  my  memory  associates  with  the  rest 
of  the  long  afternoon  many  renewals  of  acquaint- 
ance and  much  sitting  and  strolling,  for  snatches  of 
talk,  in  the  long  shade  of  great  trees  and  through 
the  straight  walks  of  old  gardens.  A  couple  of 
hours  thus  passed,  and  fresh  accessions  enriched 
the  picture.  There  were  persons  I  was  curious  of 
— of  Lady  John,  for  instance,  of  whom  I  promised 
myself  an  early  view;  but  we  were  apt  to  be 
carried  away  in  currents  that  reflected  new  images 
and  sufficiently  beguiled  impatience.  I  recover, 
all  the  same,  a  full  sequence  of  impressions,  each  of 
which,  I  afterwards  saw,  had  been  appointed  to 
help  all  the  others.  If  my  anecdote,  as  I  have  men- 
tioned, had  begun,  at  Paddington,  at  a  particular 
moment,  it  gathered  substance  step  by  step  and 
without  missing  a  link.  The  links,  in  fact,  should 
I  count  them  all,  would  make  too  long  a  chain. 
They  formed,  nevertheless,  the  happiest  little  chap- 
ter of  accidents,  though  a  series  of  which  I  can 
scarce  give  more  than  the  general  effect. 

13 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

One  of  the  first  accidents  was  that,  before  dinner, 
I  met  Ford  Obert  wandering  a  little  apart  with 
Mrs.  Server,  and  that,  as  they  were  known  to  me 
as  agreeable  acquaintances,  I  should  have  faced 
them  with  confidence  had  I  not  immediately  drawn 
from  their  sequestered  air  the  fear  of  interrupting 
them.  Mrs.  Server  was  always  lovely  and  Obert 
always  expert;  the  latter  straightway  pulled  up, 
however,  making  me  as  welcome  as  if  their  con- 
verse had  dropped.  She  was  extraordinarily  pretty, 
markedly  responsive,  conspicuously  charming,  but 
he  gave  me  a  look  that  really  seemed  to  say: 
"  Don't — there's  a  good  fellow — leave  me  any 
longer  alone  with  her !  "  I  had  met  her  at  New- 
march  before — it  was  indeed  only  so  that  I  had  met 
her — and  I  knew  how  she  was  valued  there.  I  also 
knew  that  an  aversion  to  pretty  women — numbers 
of  whom  he  had  preserved  for  a  grateful  posterity — 
was  his  sign  neither  as  man  nor  as  artist;  the  effect 
of  all  of  which  was  to  make  me  ask  myself  what  she 
could  have  been  doing  to  him.  Making  love,  pos- 
sibly— yet  from  that  he  would  scarce  have  appealed. 
She  wouldn't,  on  the  other  hand,  have  given  him 
her  company  only  to  be  inhuman.  I  joined  them, 
at  all  events,  learning  from  Mrs.  Server  that  she 
had  come  by  a  train  previous  to  my  own;  and  we 
made*a  slow  trio  till,  at  a  turn  of  the  prospect,  we. 
came  upon  another  group.  It  consisted  of  Mrs. 
Froome  and  Lord  Lutley  and  of  Gilbert  Long  and 

14 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

Lady  John — mingled  and  confounded,  as  might  be 
said,  not  assorted  according  to  tradition.  Long 
and  Mrs.  Froome  came  first,  I  recollect,  together, 
and  his  lordship  turned  away  from  Lady  John  on 
seeing  me  rather  directly  approach  her.  She  had 
become  for  me,  on  the  spot,  as  interesting  as,  while 
we  travelled,  I  had  found  my  two  friends  in  the 
train.  As  the  source  of  the  flow  of  "  intellect " 
that  had  transmuted  our  young  man,  she  had  every 
claim  to  an  earnest  attention;  and  I  should  soon 
have  been  ready  to  pronounce  that  she  rewarded  it 
as  richly  as  usual.  She  was  indeed,  as  Mrs.  Briss 
had  said,  as  pointed  as  a  hat-pin,  and  I  bore  in  mind 
that  lady's  injunction  to  look  in  her  for  the  answer 
to  our  riddle. 

The  riddle,  I  may  mention,  sounded  afresh  to  my 
ear  in  Gilbert  Long's  gay  voice;  it  hovered  there — 
before  me,  beside,  behind  me,  as  we  all  paused — 
in  his  light,  restless  step,  a  nervous  animation  that 
seemed  to  multiply  his  presence.  He  became  real- 
ly, for  the  moment,  under  this  impression,  the  thing 
I  was  most  conscious  of;  I  heard  him,  I  felt  him 
even  while  I  exchanged  greetings  with  the  sor- 
ceress by  whose  wand  he  had  been  touched.  To 
be  touched  myself  was  doubtless  not  quite  what  I 
wanted;  yet  I  wanted,  distinctly,  a  glimpse;  so  that, 
with  the  smart  welcome  Lady  John  gave  me,  I 
might  certainly  have  felt  that  I  was  on  the  way  to 
get  it.  The  note  of  Long's  predominance  deep- 

15 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

ened  during  these  minutes  in  a  manner  I  can't  de- 
scribe, and  I  continued  to  feel  that  though  we  pre- 
tended to  talk  it  was  to  him  only  we  listened.  He 
had  us  all  in  hand;  he  controlled  for  the  moment  all 
our  attention  and  our  relations.  He  was  in  short, 
as  a  consequence  of  our  attitude,  in  possession  of 
the  scene  to  a  tune  he  couldn't  have  dreamed  of  a 
year  or  two  before — inasmuch  as  at  that  period  he 
could  have  figured  at  no  such  eminence  without 
making  a  fool  of  himself.  And  the  great  thing  was 
that  if  his  eminence  was  now  so  perfectly  graced 
he  yet  knew  less  than  any  of  us  what  was  the  mat- 
ter with  him.  He  was  unconscious  of  how  he  had 
"  come  out  " — which  was  exactly  what  sharpened 
my  wonder.  Lady  John,  on  her  side,  was  thor- 
oughly conscious,  and  I  had  a  fancy  that  she  looked 
at  me  to  measure  how  far  /  was.  I  cared,  naturally, 
not  in  the  least  what  she  guessed;  her  interest  for 
me  was  all  in  the  operation  of  her  influence.  I  am 
afraid  I  watched  to  catch  it  in  the  act — watched 
her  with  a  curiosity  of  which  she  might  well  have 
become  aware. 

What  an  intimacy,  what  an  intensity  of  relation, 
I  said  to  myself,  so  successful  a  process  implied !  It 
was  of  course  familiar  enough  that  when  people 
were  so  deeply  in  love  they  rubbed  off  on  each 
other — that  a  great  pressure  of  soul  to  soul  usually 
left  on  either  side  a  sufficient  show  of  tell-tale 
traces.  But  for  Long  to  have  been  so  stamped  as 

16 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

I  found  him,  how  the  pliant  wax  must  have  been 
prepared  and  the  seal  of  passion  applied !  What  an 
affection  the  woman  working  such  a  change  in  him 
must  have  managed  to  create  as  a  preface  to  her 
influence!  With  what  a  sense  of  her  charm  she 
must  have  paved  the  way  for  it !  Strangely  enough, 
however — it  was  even  rather  irritating — there  was 
nothing  more  than  usual  in  Lady  John  to  assist  my 
view  of  the  height  at  which  the  pair  so  evoked  must 
move.  These  things — the  way  other  people  could 
feel  about  each  other,  the  power  not  one's  self,  in 
the  given  instance,  that  made  for  passion — were  of 
course  at  best  the  mystery  of  mysteries;  still,  there 
were  cases  in  which  fancy,  sounding  the  depths  or 
the  shallows,  could  at  least  drop  the  lead.  Lady 
John,  perceptibly,  was  no  such  case;  imagination, 
in  her  presence,  was  but  the  weak  wing  of  the  in- 
sect that  bumps  against  the  glass.  She  was  pretty, 
prompt,  hard,  and,  in  a  way  that  was  special  to  her, 
a  mistress  at  once  of  "  culture  "  and  of  slang.  She 
was  like  a  hat — with  one  of  Mrs.  Briss's  hat-pins — 
askew  on  the  bust  of  Virgil.  Her  ornamental  in- 
formation— as  strong  as  a  coat  of  furniture-polish — 
almost  knocked  you  down.  What  I  felt  in  her  now 
more  than  ever  was  that,  having  a  reputation  for 
"  point "  to  keep  up,  she  was  always  under  arms, 
with  absences  and  anxieties  like  those  of  a  celebrity 
at  a  public  dinner.  She  thought  too  much  of  her 
"  speech  " — of  how  scon  it  would  have  to  come. 

17 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

It  was  none  the  less  wonderful,  however,  that,  as 
Grace  Brissenden  had  said,  she  should  still  find  her- 
self with  intellect  to  spare — have  lavished  herself 
by  precept  and  example  on  Long  and  yet  have  re- 
mained for  each  other  interlocutor  as  fresh  as  the 
clown  bounding  into  the  ring.  She  cracked,  for  my 
benefit,  as  many  jokes  and  turned  as  many  somer- 
saults as  might  have  been  expected;  after  which  I 
thought  it  fair  to  let  her  off.  We  all  faced  again  to 
the  house,  for  dressing  and  dinner  were  in  sight. 

I  found  myself  once  more,  as  we  moved,  with 
Mrs.  Server,  and  I  remember  rejoicing  that,  sym- 
pathetic as  she  showed  herself,  she  didn't  think  it 
necessary  to  be,  like  Lady  John,  always  "  ready." 
She  was  delightfully  handsome — handsomer  than 
ever;  slim,  fair,  fine,  with  charming  pale  eyes  and 
splendid  auburn  hair.  I  said  to  myself  that  I 
hadn't  done  her  justice;  she  hadn't  organised  her 
forces,  was  a  little  helpless  and  vague,  but  there  was 
ease  for  the  weary  in  her  happy  nature  and  her 
peculiar  grace.  These  last  were  articles  on  which, 
five  minutes  later,  before  the  house,  where  we  still 
had  a  margin,  I  was  moved  to  challenge  Ford 
Obert. 

"  What  was  the  matter  just  now — when,  though 
you  were  so  fortunately  occupied,  you  yet  seemed 
to  call  me  to  the  rescue?  " 

"  Oh,"  he  laughed,  "  I  was  only  occupied  in  be- 
ing frightened ! " 

18 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"But  at  what?" 

"  Well,  at  a  sort  of  sense  that  she  wanted  to  make 
love  to  me." 

I  reflected.  "  Mrs.  Server?  Does  Mrs.  Server 
make  love?  " 

"  It  seemed  to  me,"  my  friend  replied,  "  that  she 
began  on  it  to  you  as  soon  as  she  got  hold  of  you. 
Weren't  you  aware?  " 

I  debated  afresh;  I  didn't  know  that  I  had  been. 
"  Not  to  the  point  of  terror.  She's  so  gentle  and 
so  appealing.  Even  if  she  took  one  in  hand  with 
violence,  moreover,"  I  added,  "  I  don't  see  why  ter- 
ror— given  so  charming  a  person — should  be  the 
result.  It's  flattering." 

"  Ah,  you're  brave,"  said  Obert. 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  ever  timid.  How  can 
you  be,  in  your  profession?  Doesn't  it  come  back 
to  me,  for  that  matter,  that — only  the  other  year — 
you  painted  her?  " 

"Yes,  I  faced  her  to  that  extent.  But  she's 
different  now." 

I  scarcely  made  it  out.  "  In  what  way  different? 
She's  as  charming  as  ever." 

As  if  even  for  his  own  satisfaction  my  friend 
seemed  to  think  a  little.  "  Well,  her  affections 
were  not  then,  I  imagine,  at  her  disposal.  I  judge 
that  that's  what  it  must  have  been.  They  were 
fixed — with  intensity;  and  it  made  the  difference 
with  me.  Her  imagination  had,  for  the  time,  rested 

19 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

its  wing.  At  present  it's  ready  for  flight — it  seeks 
a  fresh  perch.  It's  trying.  Take  care." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  flatter  myself/'  I  laughed,  "  that 
I've  only  to  hold  out  my  hand!  At  any  rate,"  I 
went  on,  "  /  sha'n't  call  for  help." 

He  seemed  to  think  again.  "  I  don't  know. 
You'll  see." 

"  If  I  do  I  shall  see  a  great  deal  more  than  I  now 
suspect."  He  wanted  to  get  off  to  dress,  but  I  still 
held  him.  "  Isn't  she  wonderfully  lovely?  " 

"  Oh !  "  he  simply  exclaimed. 

"  Isn't  she  as  lovely  as  she  seems?  " 

But  he  had  already  broken  away.  "  What  has 
that  to  do  with  it?" 

"What  has  anything,  then?" 

"  She's  too  beastly  unhappy." 

"  But  isn't  that  just  one's  advantage?  " 

"  No.     It's  uncanny."     And  he  escaped. 

The  question  had  at  all  events  brought  us  indoors 
and  so  far  up  our  staircase  as  to  where  it  branched 
towards  Obert's  room.  I  followed  it  to  my  cor- 
ridor, with  which  other  occasions  had  made  me  ac- 
quainted, and  I  reached  the  door  on  which  I  ex- 
pected to  find  my  card  of  designation.  This  door, 
however,  was  open,  so  as  to  show  me,  in  momentary 
possession  of  the  room,  a  gentleman,  unknown  to 
me,  who,  in  unguided  quest  of  his  quarters,  ap- 
peared to  have  arrived  from  the  other  end  of  the 
passage.  He  had  just  seen,  as  the  property  of  an- 

20 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

other,  my  unpacked  things,  with  which  he  imme- 
diately connected  me.  He  moreover,  to  my  sur- 
prise, on  my  entering,  sounded  my  name,  in 
response  to  which  I  could  only  at  first  remain  blank. 
It  was  in  fact  not  till  I  had  begun  to  help  him  place 
himself  that,  correcting  my  blankness,  I  knew  him 
for  Guy  Brissenden.  He  had  been  put  by  himself, 
for  some  reason,  in  the  bachelor  wing  and,  explor- 
ing at  hazard,  had  mistaken  the  signs.  By  the 
time  we  found  his  servant  and  his  lodging  I  had 
reflected  on  the  oddity  of  my  having  been  as  stupid 
about  the  husband  as  I  had  been  about  the  wife. 
He  had  escaped  my  notice  since  our  arrival,  but  I 
had,  as  a  much  older  man,  met  him — the  hero  of  his 
odd  union — at  some  earlier  time.  Like  his  wife, 
none  the  less,  he  had  now  struck  me  as  a  stranger, 
and  it  was  not  till,  in  his  room,  I  stood  a  little  face 
to  face  with  him  that  I  made  out  the  wonderful 
reason. 

The  wonderful  reason  was  that  I  was  nat  a  much 
older  man;  Guy  Brissenden,  at  any  rate,  was  not  a 
much  younger.  It  was  he  who  was  old — it  was  he 
who  was  older — it  was  he  who  was  oldest.  That 
was  so  disconcertingly  what  he  had  become.  It 
was  in  short  what  he  would  have  been  had  he  been 
as  old  as  he  looked.  He  looked  almost  anything — 
he  looked  quite  sixty.  I  made  it  out  again  at  din- 
ner, where,  from  a  distance,  but  opposite,  I  had  him 
in  sight.  Nothing  could  have  been  stranger  than 

21 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

the  way  that,  fatigued,  fixed,  settled,  he  seemed  to 
have  piled  up  the  years.  They  were  there  without 
having  had  time  to  arrive.  It  was  as  if  he  had  dis- 
covered some  miraculous  short  cut  to  the  common 
doom.  He  had  grown  old,  in  fine,  as  people  you 
see  after  an  interval  sometimes  strike  you  as  having 
grown  rich — too  quickly  for  the  honest,  or  at  least 
for  the  straight,  way.  He  had  cheated  or  inherited 
or  speculated.  It  took  me  but  a  minute  then  to 
add  him  to  my  little  gallery — the  small  collection, 
I  mean,  represented  by  his  wife  and  by  Gilbert  Long, 
as  well  as  in  some  degree  doubtless  also  by  Lady 
John:  the  museum  of  those  who  put  to  me  with 
such  intensity  the  question  of  what  had  happened 
to  them.  His  wife,  on  the  same  side,  was  not  out 
of  my  range,  and  now,  largely  exposed,  lighted, 
jewelled,  and  enjoying  moreover  visibly  the  sense 
of  these  things — his  wife,  upon  my  honour,  as  I 
soon  remarked  to  the  lady  next  me,  his  wife  (it  was 
too  prodigious!)  looked  about  twenty. 

"  Yes — isn't  it  funny?  "  said  the  lady  next  me. 

It  was  so  funny  that  it  set  me  thinking  afresh  and 
that,  with  the  interest  of  it,  which  became  a  positive 
excitement,  I  had  to  keep  myself  in  hand  in  order 
not  too  publicly  to  explain,  not  to  break  out  right 
and  left  with  my  reflections.  I  don't  know  why — it 
was  a  sense  instinctive  and  unreasoned,  but  I  felt 
from  the  first  that  if  I  was  on  the  scent  of  something 
ultimate  I  had  better  waste  neither  my  wonder  nor 

22 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

my  wisdom.  I  was  on  the  scent — that  I  was  sure 
of;  and  yet  even  after  I  was  sure  I  should  still  have 
been  at  a  loss  to  put  my  enigma  itself  into  words. 
I  was  just  conscious,  vaguely,  of  being  on  the  track 
of  a  law,  a  law  that  would  fit,  that  would  strike  me 
as  governing  the  delicate  phenomena  —  delicate 
though  so  marked — that  my  imagination  found  it- 
self playing  with.  A  part  of  the  amusement  they 
yielded  came,  I  daresay,  from  my  exaggerating 
them — grouping  them  into  a  larger  mystery  (and 
thereby  a  larger  "  law  ")  than  the  facts,  as  observed, 
yet  warranted;  but  that  is  the  common  fault  of 
minds  for  which  the  vision  of  life  is  an  obsession. 
The  obsession  pays,  if  one  will;  but  to  pay  it  has  to 
borrow.  After  dinner,  but  while  the  men  were  still 
in  the  room,  I  had  some  talk  again  with  Long,  of 
whom  I  inquired  if  he  had  been  so  placed  as  to 
see  "  poor  Briss." 

He  appeared  to  wonder,  and  poor  Briss,  with 
our  shifting  of  seats,  was  now  at  a  distance.  "  I 
think  so — but  I  didn't  particularly  notice.  What's 
the  matter  with  poor  Briss?  " 

"  That's  exactly  what  I  thought  you  might  be 
able  to  tell  me.  But  if  nothing,  in  him,  strikes 
you !" 

He  met  my  eyes  a  moment — then  glanced  about. 
"Where  is  he?" 

"  Behind  you;  only  don't  turn  round  to  look,  for 

he  knows "     But  I  dropped,   having  caught 

23 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

something  directed  toward  me  in  Brissenden's  face. 
My  interlocutor  remained  blank,  simply  asking  me, 
after  an  instant,  what  it  was  he  knew.  On  this  I 
said  what  I  meant.  "  He  knows  we've  noticed." 

Long  wondered  again.  "  Ah,  but  I  haven't! " 
He  spoke  with  some  sharpness. 

"  He  knows,"  I  continued,  noting  the  sharpness 
too,  "  what's  the  matter  with  him." 

"  Then  what  the  devil  is  it?  " 

I  waited  a  little,  having  for  the  moment  an  idea 
on  my  hands.  "  Do  you  see  him  often?  " 

Long  disengaged  the  ash  from  his  cigarette. 
"No.  Why  should  I?" 

Distinctly,  he  was  uneasy — though  as  yet  per- 
haps but  vaguely — at  what  I  might  be  coming  to. 
That  was  precisely  my  idea,  and  if  I  pitied  him  a  lit- 
tle for  my  pressure  my  idea  was  yet  what  most 
possessed  me.  "  Do  you  mean  there's  nothing  in 
him  that  strikes  you?  " 

On  this,  unmistakably,  he  looked  at  me  hard. 
"  '  Strikes  '  me — in  that  boy?  Nothing  in  him, 
that  I  know  of,  ever  struck  me  in  my  life.  He's 
not  an  object  of  the  smallest  interest  to  me !  " 

I  felt  that  if  I  insisted  I  should  really  stir  up  the 
old  Long,  the  stolid  coxcomb,  capable  of  rudeness, 
with  whose  redemption,  reabsorption,  supersession 
— one  scarcely  knew  what  to  call  it — I  had  been  so 
happily  impressed.  "  Oh,  of  course,  if  you  haven't 
noticed,  you  haven't,  and  the  matter  I  was  going  to 

24 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

speak  of  will  have  no  point.  You  won't  know  what 
I  mean."  With  which  I  paused  long  enough  to  let 
his  curiosity  operate  if  his  denial  had  been  sincere. 
But  it  hadn't.  His  curiosity  never  operated.  He 
only  exclaimed,  more  indulgently,  that  he  didn't 
know  what  I  was  talking  about;  and  I  recognised 
after  a  little  that  if  I  had  made  him,  without  inten- 
tion, uncomfortable,  this  was  exactly  a  proof  of  his 
being  what  Mrs.  Briss,  at  the  station,  had  called 
cleverer,  and  what  I  had  so  much  remarked  while, 
in  the  garden  before  dinner,  he  held  our  small  com- 
pany. Nobody,  nothing  could,  in  the  time  of  his 
inanity,  have  made  him  turn  a  hair.  It  was  the 
mark  of  his  aggrandisement.  But  I  spared  him — 
so  far  as  was  consistent  with  my  wish  for  absolute 
certainty;  changed  the  subject,  spoke  of  other 
things,  took  pains  to  sound  disconnectedly,  and 
only  after  reference  to  several  of  the  other  ladies, 
the  name  over  which  we  had  just  felt  friction. 
"  Mrs.  Brissenden's  quite  fabulous." 

He  appeared  to  have  strayed,  in  our  interval,  far. 
"'Fabulous'?" 

"  Why,  for  the  figure  that,  by  candle-light  and  in 
cloth-of-silver  and  diamonds,  she  is  still  able  to 
make." 

"  Oh  dear,  yes !  "  He  showed  as  relieved  to  be 
able  to  see  what  I  meant.  "  She  has  grown  so  very 
much  less  plain." 

But  that  wasn't  at  all  what  I  meant.     "  Ah,"  I 

25 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

said,  "  you  put  it  the  other  way  at  Paddington — 
which  was  much  more  the  right  one." 

He  had  quite  forgotten.  "  How  then  did  I  put 
it?" 

As  he  had  done  before,  I  got  rid  of  my  ash. 
"  She  hasn't  grown  very  much  less  plain.  She  has 
only  grown  very  much  less  old." 

"  Ah,  well,"  he  laughed,  but  as  if  his  interest  had 
quickly  dropped,  "  youth  is — comparatively  speak- 
ing— beauty." 

"  Oh,  not  always.     Look  at  poor  Briss  himself." 

"  Well,  if  you  like  better,  beauty  is  youth." 

"  Not  always,  either,"  I  returned.  "  Certainly 
only  when  it  is  beauty.  To  see  how  little  it  may  be 
either,  look,"  I  repeated,  "  at  poor  Briss." 

"  I  thought  you  told  me  just  now  not  to !  "  He 
rose  at  last  in  his  impatience. 

"  Well,  at  present  you  can." 

I  also  got  up,  the  other  men  at  the  same  moment 
moved,  and  the  subject  of  our  reference  stood  in 
view.  This  indeed  was  but  briefly,  for,  as  if  to  ex- 
amine a  picture  behind  him,  the  personage  in 
question  suddenly  turned  his  back.  Long,  how- 
ever, had  had  time  to  take  him  in  and  then  to  decide. 
"I've  looked.  What  then?" 

"  You  don't  see  anything?  " 

"  Nothing." 

"  Not  what  everyone  else  must?  " 

"  No,  confound  you !  " 
26 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  already  felt  that,  to  be  so  tortuous,  he  must 
have  had  a  reason,  and  the  search  for  his  reason 
was  what,  from  this  moment,  drew  me  on.  I  had 
in  fact  half  guessed  it  as  we  stood  there.  But 
this  only  made  me  the  more  explanatory.  "  It 
isn't  really,  however,  that  Brissenden  has  grown 
less  lovely  —  it's  only  that  he  has  grown  less 
young." 

To  which  my  friend,  as  we  quitted  the  room,  re- 
plied simply:  "Oh!" 

The  effect  I  have  mentioned  was,  none  the  less, 
too  absurd.  The  poor  youth's  back,  before  us,  still 
as  if  consciously  presented,  confessed  to  the  burden 
of  time.  "  How  old,"  I  continued,  "  did  we  make 
out  this  afternoon  that  he  would  be?  " 

"That  who  would?" 

"  Why,  poor  Briss." 

He  fairly  pulled  up  in  our  march.  "  Have  you 
got  him  on  the  brain?  " 

"  Don't  I  seem  to  remember,  my  dear  man,  that 
it  was  you  yourself  who  knew?  He's  thirty  at  the 
most.  He  can't  possibly  be  more.  And  there  he 
is:  as  fine,  as  swaddled,  as  royal  a  mummy,  to  the 
eye,  as  one  would  wish  to  see.  Don't  pretend! 
But  it's  all  right."  I  laughed  as  I  took  myself  up. 
"  I  must  talk  to  Lady  John." 

I  did  talk  to  her,  but  I  must  come  to  it.  What 
is  most  to  the  point  just  here  is  an  observation  or 
two  that,  in  the  smoking-room,  before  going  to 

27 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

bed,  I  exchanged  with  Ford  Obert.  I  forbore,  as 
I  have  hinted,  to  show  all  I  saw,  but  it  was  lawfully 
open  to  me  to  judge  of  what  other  people  did;  and 
I  had  had  before  dinner  my  little  proof  that,  on  oc- 
casion, Obert  could  see  as  much  as  most.  Yet  I 
said  nothing  more  to  him  for  the  present  about  Mrs. 
Server.  The  Brissendens  were  new  to  him,  and  his 
experience  of  every  sort  of  facial  accident,  of  human 
sign,  made  him  just  the  touchstone  I  wanted. 
Nothing,  naturally,  was  easier  than  to  turn  him  on 
the  question  of  the  fair  and  the  foul,  type  and  char- 
acter, weal  and  woe,  among  our  fellow-visitors;  so 
that  my  mention  of  the  air  of  disparity  in  the  couple 
I  have  just  named  came  in  its  order  and  produced 
its  effect.  This  effect  was  that  of  my  seeing — 
which  was  all  I  required — that  if  the  disparity  was 
marked  for  him  this  expert  observer  could  yet  read 
it  quite  the  wrong  way.  Why  had  so  fine  a  young 
creature  married  a  man  three  times  her  age?  He 
was  of  course  astounded  when  I  told  him  the  young 
creature  was  much  nearer  three  times  Brissenden's, 
and  this  led  to  some  interesting  talk  between  us  as 
to  the  consequences,  in  general,  of  such  association 
on  such  terms.  The  particular  case  before  us,  I 
easily  granted,  sinned  by  over-emphasis,  but  it  was 
a  fair,  though  a  gross,  illustration  of  what  almost 
always  occurred  when  twenty  and  forty,  when 
thirty  and  sixty,  mated  or  mingled,  lived  together 
in  intimacy.  Intimacy  of  course  had  to  be  postu- 

28 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

lated.  Then  either  the  high  number  or  the  low 
always  got  the  upper  hand,  and  it  was  usually 
the  high  that  succeeded.  It  seemed,  in  other 
words,  more  possible  to  go  back  than  to  keep  still, 
to  grow  young  than  to  remain  so.  If  Brissenden 
had  been  of  his  wife's  age  and  his  wife  of  Brissen- 
den's,  it  would  thus  be  he  who  must  have  rede- 
scended  the  hill,  it  would  be  she  who  would  have 
been  pushed  over  the  brow.  There  was  really  a 
touching  truth  in  it,  the  stuff  of — what  did  people 
call  such  things? — an  apologue  or  a  parable.  "  One 
of  the  pair,"  I  said,  "  has  to  pay  for  the  other. 
What  ensues  is  a  miracle,  and  miracles  are  expen- 
sive. What's  a  greater  one  than  to  have  your 
youth  twice  over?  It's  a  second  wind,  another 
'  go ' — which  isn't  the  sort  of  thing  life  mostly 
treats  us  to.  Mrs.  Briss  had  to  get  her  new  blood, 
her  extra  allowance  of  time  and  bloom,  some- 
where; and  from  whom  could  she  so  conveniently 
extract  them  as  from  Guy  himself?  She  has,  by  an 
extraordinary  feat  of  legerdemain,  extracted  them; 
and  he,  on  his  side,  to  supply  her,  has  had  to  tap 
the  sacred  fount.  But  the  sacred  fount  is  like  the 
greedy  man's  description  of  the  turkey  as  an 
'  awkward  '  dinner  dish.  It  may  be  sometimes  too 
much  for  a  single  share,  but  it's  not  enough  to  go 
round." 

Obert  was  at  all  events  sufficiently  struck  with 
my  view  to  throw  out  a  question  on  it.     "  So  that, 

29 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

paying  to  his  last  drop,  Mr.  Briss,  as  you  call  him, 
can  only  die  of  the  business?  " 

"  Oh,  not  yet,  I  hope.  But  before  her — yes : 
long." 

He  was  much  amused.  "  How  you  polish  them 
off!" 

"  I  only  talk,"  I  returned,  "  as  you  paint;  not  a 
bit  worse!  But  one  must  indeed  wonder,"  I  con- 
ceded, "  how  the  poor  wretches  feel." 

'''  You  mean  whether  Brissenden  likes  it?  " 

I  made  up  my  mind  on  the  spot.  "  If  he  loves 
her  he  must.  That  is  if  he  loves  her  passionately, 
sublimely."  I  saw  it  all.  "  It's  in  fact  just  because 
he  does  so  love  her  that  the  miracle,  for  her,  is 
wrought." 

"  Well,"  my  friend  reflected,  "  for  taking  a  mira- 
cle coolly !" 

"She  hasn't  her  equal?  Yes,  she  does  take 
it.  She  just  quietly,  but  just  selfishly,  profits  by 
it." 

"  And  doesn't  see  then  how  her  victim  loses?  " 

"  No.  She  can't.  The  perception,  if  she  had  it, 
would  be  painful  and  terrible — might  even  be  fatal 
to  the  process.  So  she  hasn't  it.  She  passes  round 
it.  It  takes  all  her  flood  of  life  to  meet  her  own 
chance.  She  has  only  a  wonderful  sense  of  success 
and  well-being.  The  other  consciousness " 

"  Is  all  for  the  other  party?  " 

"  The  author  of  the  sacrifice." 
30 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"  Then  how  beautifully  '  poor  Briss/  "  my  com- 
panion said,  "  must  have  it !  " 

I  had  already  assured  myself.  He  had  gone  to 
bed,  and  my  fancy  followed  him.  "  Oh,  he  has  it 
so  that,  though  he  goes,  in  his  passion,  about  with 
her,  he  dares  scarcely  show  his  face."  And  I  made 
a  final  induction.  "  The  agents  of  the  sacrifice  are 
uncomfortable,  I  gather,  when  they  suspect  or  fear 
that  you  see." 

My  friend  was  charmed  with  my  ingenuity. 
"  How  you've  worked  it  out !  " 

"  Well,  I  feel  as  if  I  were  on  the  way  to  some- 
thing." 

He  looked  surprised.     "  Something  still  more?  " 

"  Something  still  more."  I  had  an  impulse  to 
tell  him  I  scarce  knew  what.  But  I  kept  it  under. 
"  I  seem  to  snuff  up " 

"  Quoi  done?  " 

"  The  sense  of  a  discovery  to  be  made." 

"And  of  what?" 

"  I'll  tell  you  to-morrow.     Good-night." 


Ill 


I  DID  on  the  morrow  several  things,  but  the  first 
was  not  to  redeem  that  vow.  It  was  to  ad- 
dress myself  straight  to  Grace  Brissenden.  "  I 
must  let  you  know  that,  in  spite  of  your  guarantee, 
it  doesn't  go  at  all — oh,  but  not  at  all!  I've  tried 
Lady  John,  as  you  enjoined,  and  I  can't  but  feel 
that  she  leaves  us  very  much  where  we  were." 
Then,  as  my  listener  seemed  not  quite  to  remember 
where  we  had  been,  I  came  to  her  help.  "  You 
said  yesterday  at  Paddington,  to  explain  the  change 
in  Gilbert  Long  —  don't  you  recall?  —  that  that 
woman,  plying  him  with  her  genius  and  giving  him 
of  her  best,  is  clever  enough  for  two.  She's  not 
clever  enough  then,  it  strikes  me,  for  three — or  at 
any  rate  for  four.  I  confess  I  don't  see  it.  Does 
she  really  dazzle  you?  " 

My  friend  had  caught  up.  "  Oh,  you've  a  stand- 
ard of  wit ! " 

"  No,  I've  only  a  sense  of  reality — a  sense  not  at 
all  satisfied  by  the  theory  of  such  an  influence  as 
Lady  John's." 

She  wondered.  "  Such  a  one  as  whose  else 
then?" 

"Ah,  that's  for  us  still  to  find  out!  Of  course 
32 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

this  can't  be  easy;  for  as  the  appearance  is  inevita- 
bly a  kind  of  betrayal,  it's  in  somebody's  interest  to 
conceal  it." 

This  Mrs.  Brissenden  grasped.  "  Oh,  you  mean 
in  the  lady's?" 

"  In  the  lady's  most.  But  also  in  Long's  own, 
if  he's  really  tender  of  the  lady — which  is  precisely 
what  our  theory  posits." 

My  companion,  once  roused,  was  all  there.  "  I 
see.  You  call  the  appearance  a  kind  of  betrayal 
because  it  points  to  the  relation  behind  it." 

"  Precisely." 

"And  the  relation — to  do  that  sort  of  thing — 
must  be  necessarily  so  awfully  intimate." 

"  Intimissima." 

"  And  kept  therefore  in  the  background  exactly 
in  that  proportion." 

"  Exactly  in  that  proportion." 

"  Very  well  then,"  said  Mrs.  Brissenden,  "doesn't 
Mr.  Long's  tenderness  of  Lady  John  quite  fall  in 
with  what  I  mentioned  to  you?  " 

I  remembered  what  she  had  mentioned  to  me. 
"  His  making  her  come  down  with  poor  Briss?  " 

"  Nothing  less." 

"  And  is  that  all  you  go  upon?  " 

"  That  and  lots  more." 

I  thought  a  minute — but  I  had  been  abundantly 
thinking.  "  I  know  what  you  mean  by  '  lots.'  Is 
Brissenden  in  it?  " 

33 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  Dear  no — poor  Briss !  He  wouldn't  like  that. 
7  saw  the  manoeuvre,  but  Guy  didn't.  And  you 
must  have  noticed  how  he  stuck  to  her  all  last  even- 
ing." 

"  How  Gilbert  Long  stuck  to  Lady  John?  Oh 
yes,  I  noticed.  They  were  like  Lord  Lutley  and 
Mrs.  Froome.  But  is  that  what  one  can  call  being 
tender  of  her?  " 

My  companion  weighed  it.  "  He  must  speak  to 
her  sometimes.  I'm  glad  you  admit,  at  any  rate," 
she  continued,  "  that  it  does  take  what  you  so  pret- 
tily call  some  woman's  secretly  giving  him  of  her 
best  to  account  for  him." 

"  Oh,  that  I  admit  with  all  my  heart — or  at  least 
with  all  my  head.  Only,  Lady  John  has  none  of 
the  signs " 

"  Of  being  the  beneficent  woman?  What  then 
are  they — the  signs — to  be  so  plain?  "  I  was  not 
yet  quite  ready  to  say,  however;  on  which  she 
added :  "  It  proves  nothing,  you  know,  that  you 
don't  like  her." 

"  No.  It  would  prove  more  if  she  didn't  like 
me,  which — fatuous  fool  as  you  may  find  me — I 
verily  believe  she  does.  If  she  hated  me  it  would 
be,  you  see,  for  my  ruthless  analysis  of  her  secret. 
She  has  no  secret.  She  would  like  awfully  to  have 
— and  she  would  like  almost  as  much  to  be  believed 
to  have.  Last  evening,  after  dinner,  she  could  feel 
perhaps  for  a  while  that  she  was  believed.  But  it 

34 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

won't  do.  There's  nothing  in  it.  You  asked  me 
just  now,"  I  pursued,  "  what  the  signs  of  such  a 
secret  would  naturally  be.  Well,  bethink  yourself 
a  moment  of  what  the  secret  itself  must  naturally 
be." 

Oh,  she  looked  as  if  she  knew  all  about  that! 
"  Awfully  charming — mustn't  it? — to  act  upon  a 
person,  through  an  affection,  so  deeply." 

"  Yes — it  can  certainly  be  no  vulgar  flirtation." 
I  felt  a  little  like  a  teacher  encouraging  an  apt  pupil; 
but  I  could  only  go  on  with  the  lesson.  "  Whoever 
she  is,  she  gives  all  she  has.  She  keeps  nothing 
back — nothing  for  herself." 

"  I  see — because  he  takes  everything.  He  just 
cleans  her  out."  She  looked  at  me — pleased  at  last 
really  to  understand — with  the  best  conscience  in 
the  world.  "  Who  is  the  lady  then?  " 

But  I  could  answer  as  yet  only  by  a  question. 
"  How  can  she  possibly  be  a  woman  who  gives  ab- 
solutely nothing  whatever;  who  scrapes  and  saves 
and  hoards;  who  keeps  every  crumb  for  herself? 
The  whole  show's  there  —  to  minister  to  Lady 
John's  vanity  and  advertise  the  business — behind 
her  smart  shop-window.  You  can  see  it,  as  much 
as  you  like,  and  even  amuse  yourself  with  pricing 
it.  But  she  never  parts  with  an  article.  If  poor 
Long  depended  on  her " 

"  Well,  what?  "     She  was  really  interested. 

"  Why,  he'd  be  the  same  poor  Long  as  ever.     He 

35 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

would  go  as  he  used  to  go — naked  and  unashamed. 
No,"  I  wound  up,  "  he  deals'— turned  out  as  we  now 
see  him — at  another  establishment." 

"  I'll  grant  it,"  said  Mrs.  Brissenden,  "  if  you'll 
only  name  me  the  place." 

Ah,  I  could  still  but  laugh  and  resume !  "  He 
doesn't  screen  Lady  John — she  doesn't  screen  her- 
self— with  your  husband  or  with  anybody.  It's  she 
who's  herself  the  screen!  And  pleased  as  she  is 
at  being  so  clever,  and  at  being  thought  so,  she 
doesn't  even  know  it.  She  doesn't  so  much  as  sus- 
pect it.  She's  an  unmitigated  fool  about  it.  *  Of 
course  Mr.  Long's  clever,  because  he's  in  love  with 
me  and  sits  at  my  feet,  and  don't  you  see  how  clever 
/  am?  Don't  you  hear  what  good  things  I  say — 
wait  a  little,  I'm  going  to  say  another  in  about  three 
minutes;  and  how,  if  you'll  only  give  him  time  too, 
he  comes  out  with  them  after  me?  They  don't  per- 
haps sound  so  good,  but  you  see  where  he  has  got 
them.  I'm  so  brilliant,  in  fine,  that  the  men  who 
admire  me  have  only  to  imitate  me,  which,  you  ob- 
serve, they  strikingly  do.'  Something  like  that  is 
all  her  philosophy." 

My  friend  turned  it  over.  "  You  do  sound 
like  her,  you  know.  Yet  how,  if  a  woman's 
stupid " 

"  Can  she  have  made  a  man  clever?  She  can't. 
She  can't  at  least  have  begun  it.  What  we  shall 
know  the  real  person  by,  in  the  case  that  you  and 

36 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

I  are  studying,  is  that  the  man  himself  will  have 
made  her  what  she  has  become.  She  will  have 
done  just  what  Lady  John  has  not  done — she  will 
have  put  up  the  shutters  and  closed  the  shop.  She 
will  have  parted,  for  her  friend,  with  her  wit." 

"  So  that  she  may  be  regarded  as  reduced  to 
idiocy?  " 

"  Well — so  I  can  only  see  it." 

"And  that  if  we  look,  therefore,  for  the  right 
idiot " 

"  We  shall  find  the  right  woman — our  friend's 
mystic  Egeria?  Yes,  we  shall  be  at  least  approach- 
ing the  truth.  We  shall  *  burn/  as  they  say  in 
hide-and-seek."  I  of  course  kept  to  the  point  that 
the  idiot  would  have  to  be  the  right  one.  Any  idiot 
wouldn't  be  to  the  purpose.  If  it  was  enough  that 
a  woman  was  a  fool  the  search  might  become  hope- 
less even  in  a  house  that  would  have  passed  but  ill  for 
a  fool's  paradise.  We  were  on  one  of  the  shaded  ter- 
races, to  which,  here  and  there,  a  tall  window  stood 
open.  The  picture  without  was  all  morning  and 
August,  and  within  all  clear  dimness  and  rich 
gleams.  We  stopped  once  or  twice,  raking  the 
gloom  for  lights,  and  it  was  at  some  such  moment 
that  Mrs.  Brissenden  asked  me  if  1  then  regarded 
Gilbert  Long  as  now  exalted  to  the  position  of  the 
most  brilliant  of  our  companions.  "  The  cleverest 
man  of  the  party? " — it  pulled  me  up  a  little. 
"  Hardly  that,  perhaps  —  for  don't  you  see  the 

37 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

proofs  I'm  myself  giving  you?  But  say  he  is  " — 
I  considered — "  the  cleverest  but  one."  The  next 
moment  I  had  seen  what  she  meant.  "  In  that  case 
the  thing  we're  looking  for  ought  logically  to  be 
the  person,  of  the  opposite  sex,  giving  us  the  maxi- 
mum sense  of  depletion  for  his  benefit?  The  big- 
gest fool,  you  suggest,  must,  consistently,  be  the 
right  one?  Yes  again;  it  would  so  seem.  But 
that's  not  really,  you  see,  the  short  cut  it  sounds. 
The  biggest  fool  is  what  we  want,  but  the  question 
is  to  discover  who  is  the  biggest." 

"  I'm  glad  then  /  feel  so  safe !  "  Mrs.  Brissen- 
den  laughed. 

"  Oh,  you're  not  the  biggest !  "  I  handsomely 
conceded.  "  Besides,  as  I  say,  there  must  be  the 
other  evidence — the  evidence  of  relations." 

We  had  gone  on,  with  this,  a  few  steps,  but  my 
companion  again  checked  me,  while  her  nod  toward 
a  window  gave  my  attention  a  lead.  "  Won't  that, 
as  it  happens,  then  do?  "  We  could  just  see,  from 
where  we  stood,  a  corner  of  one  of  the  rooms.  It 
was  occupied  by  a  seated  couple,  a  lady  whose  face 
was  in  sight  and  a  gentleman  whose  identity  was 
attested  by  his  back,  a  back  somehow  replete  for 
us,  at  the  moment,  with  a  guilty  significance. 
There  was  the  evidence  of  relations.  That  we  had 
suddenly  caught  Long  in  the  act  of  presenting  his 
receptacle  at  the  sacred  fount  seemed  announced 
by  the  tone  in  which  Mrs.  Brissenden  named  the 

38 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

other  party — "  Mme.  de  Dreuil !  "  We  looked  at 
each  other,  I  was  aware,  with  some  elation;  but  our 
triumph  was  brief.  The  Comtesse  de  Dreuil,  we 
quickly  felt — an  American  married  to  a  Frenchman 
— wasn't  at  all  the  thing.  She  was  almost  as  much 
"  all  there  "  as  Lady  John.  She  was  only  another 
screen,  and  we  perceived,  for  that  matter,  the  next 
minute,  that  Lady  John  was  also  present.  Another 
step  had  placed  us  within  range  of  her;  the  picture 
revealed  in  the  rich  dusk  of  the  room  was  a  group 
of  three.  From  that  moment,  unanimously,  we 
gave  up  Lady  John,  and  as  we  continued  our  stroll 
my  friend  brought  out  her  despair.  "  Then  he  has 
nothing  but  screens?  The  need  for  so  many  does 
suggest  a  fire !  "  And  in  spite  of  discouragement 
she  sounded,  interrogatively,  one  after  the  other, 
the  names  of  those  ladies  the  perfection  of  whose 
presence  of  mind  might,  when  considered,  pass  as 
questionable.  We  soon,  however,  felt  our  process 
to  be,  practically,  a  trifle  invidious.  Not  one  of  the 
persons  named  could,  at  any  rate — to  do  them  all 
justice — affect  us  as  an  intellectual  ruin.  It  was 
natural  therefore  for  Mrs.  Brissenden  to  conclude 
with  scepticism.  "  She  may  exist — and  exist  as 
you  require  her;  but  what,  after  all,  proves  that 
she's  here?  She  mayn't  have  come  down  with  him. 
Does  it  necessarily  follow  that  they  always  go  about 
together?  " 

I  was  ready  to  declare  that  it  necessarily  followed. 
39 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  had  my  idea,  and  I  didn't  see  why  I  shouldn't 
bring  it  out.  "  It's  my  belief  that  he  no  more  goes 
away  without  her  than  you  go  away  without  poor 
Briss." 

She  surveyed  me  in  splendid  serenity.  "  But 
what  have  we  in  common?  " 

"With  the  parties  to  an  abandoned  flirtation? 
Well,  you've  in  common  your  mutual  attachment 
and  the  fact  that  you're  thoroughly  happy  together." 

"  Ah,"  she  good-humouredly  answered,  "  we 
don't  flirt!" 

"  Well,  at  all  events,  you  don't  separate.  He 
doesn't  really  suffer  you  out  of  his  sight,  and,  to 
circulate  in  the  society  you  adorn,  you  don't  leave 
him  at  home." 

"Why  shouldn't  I?"  she  asked,  looking  at  me, 
I  thought,  just  a  trifle  harder. 

"  It  isn't  a  question  of  why  you  shouldn't — it's  a 
question  of  whether  you  do.  You  don't — do  you? 
That's  all." 

She  thought  it  over  as  if  for  the  first  time.  "  It 
seems  to  me  I  often  leave  him  when  I  don't  want 
him." 

"  Oh,  when  you  don't  want  him — yes.  But 
when  don't  you  want  him?  You  want  him  when 
you  want  to  be  right,  and  you  want  to  be  right  when 
you  mix  in  a  scene  like  this.  I  mean,"  I  continued 
for  my  private  amusement,  "  when  you  want  to  be 
happy.  Happiness,  you  know,  is,  to  a  lady  in  the  full 

40 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

tide  of  social  success,  even  more  becoming  than  a 
new  French  frock.  You  have  the  advantage,  for 
your  beauty,  of  being  admirably  married.  You 
bloom  in  your  husband's  presence.  I  don't  say  he 
need  always  be  at  your  elbow;  I  simply  say  that 
you're  most  completely  yourself  when  he's  not  far 
off.  If  there  were  nothing  else  there  would  be  the 
help  given  you  by  your  quiet  confidence  in  his  law- 
ful passion." 

"  I'm  bound  to  say,"  Mrs.  Brissenden  replied, 
"  that  such  help  is  consistent  with  his  not  having 
spoken  to  me  since  we  parted,  yesterday,  to  come 
down  here  by  different  trains.  We  haven't  so  much 
as  met  since  our  arrival.  My  finding  him  so  in- 
dispensable is  consistent  with  my  not  having  so 
much  as  looked  at  him.  Indispensable,  please,  for 
what?" 

"  For  your  not  being  without  him." 

"  What  then  do  I  do  with  him?  " 

I  hesitated — there  were  so  many  ways  of  putting 
it;  but  I  gave  them  all  up.  "  Ah,  I  think  it  will  be 
only  he  who  can  tell  you !  My  point  is  that  you've 
the  instinct — playing  in  you,  on  either  side,  with  all 
the  ease  of  experience — of  what  you  are  to  each 
other.  All  I  mean  is  that  it's  the  instinct  that  Long 
and  his  good  friend  must  have.  They  too  perhaps 
haven't  spoken  to  each  other.  But  where  he 
comes  she  does,  and  where  she  comes  he  does. 
That's  why  I  know  she's  among  us." 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  It's  wonderful  what  you  know !  "  Mrs.  Bris- 
senden  again  laughed.  "  How  can  you  think  of 
them  as  enjoying  the  facilities  of  people  in  our  sit- 
uation?'7 

"  Of  people  married  and  therefore  logically  in 
presence?  I  don't,"  I  was  able  to  reply,  "  speak  of 
their  facilities  as  the  same,  and  I  recognise  every 
limit  to  their  freedom.  But  I  maintain,  none  the 
less,  that  so  far  as  they  can  go,  they  do  go.  It's  a 
relation,  and  they  work  the  relation:  the  relation, 
exquisite  surely,  of  knowing  they  help  each  other 
to  shine.  Why  are  they  not,  therefore,  like  you 
and  Brissenden?  What  I  make  out  is  that  when 
they  do  shine  one  will  find — though  only  after  a 
hunt,  I  admit,  as  you  see — they  must  both  have 
been  involved.  Feeling  their  need,  and  consum- 
mately expert,  they  will  have  managed,  have  ar- 
ranged." 

She  took  it  in  with  her  present  odd  mixture  of 
the  receptive  and  the  derisive.  "  Arranged  what?  " 

"  Oh,  ask  her!  " 

"  I  would  if  I  could  find  her!  "  After  which,  for 
a  moment,  my  interlocutress  again  considered. 
"  But  I  thought  it  was  just  your  contention  that 
she  doesn't  shine.  If  it's  Lady  John's  perfect  repair 
that  puts  that  sort  of  thing  out  of  the  question,  your 
image,  it  seems  to  me,  breaks  down." 

It  did  a  little,  I  saw,  but  I  gave  it  a  tilt  up.  "  Not 
at  all.  It's  a  case  of  shining  as  Brissenden  shines." 

42 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  wondered  if  I  might  go  further — then  risked  it. 
"  By  sacrifice." 

I  perceived  at  once  that  I  needn't  fear :  her  con- 
science was  too  good  —  she  was  only  amused. 
"  Sacrifice,  for  mercy's  sake,  of  what?  " 

"  Well — for  mercy's  sake — of  his  time." 

"  His  time?  "  She  stared.  "  Hasn't  he  all  the 
time  he  wants?  " 

"  My  dear  lady,"  I  smiled,  "  he  hasn't  all  the  time 
you  want ! " 

But  she  evidently  had  not  a  glimmering  of  what 
I  meant.  "  Don't  I  make  things  of  an  ease,  don't 
I  make  life  of  a  charm,  for  him?  " 

I'm  afraid  I  laughed  out.  "  That's  perhaps  ex- 
actly it !  It's  what  Gilbert  Long  does  for  his  vic- 
tim— makes  things,  makes  life,  of  an  ease  and  a 
charm." 

She  stopped  yet  again,  really  wondering  at  me 
now.  "  Then  it's  the  woman,  simply,  who's  hap- 
piest? " 

"  Because  Brissenden's  the  man  who  is?  Pre- 
cisely ! " 

On  which  for  a  minute,  without  her  going  on, 
we  looked  at  each  other.  "  Do  you  really  mean 
that  if  you  only  knew  me  as  I  am,  it  would  come  to 
you  in  the  same  way  to  hunt  for  my  confederate? 
I  mean  if  he  weren't  made  obtious,  you  know,  by 
his  being  my  husband." 

I  turned  this  over.  "  If  you  were  only  in  flirta- 
43 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

tion — as  you  reminded  me  just  now  that  you're 
not?  Surely!"  I  declared.  "I  should  arrive  at 
him,  perfectly,  after  all  eliminations,  on  the  princi- 
ple of  looking  for  the  greatest  happiness " 

"  Of  the  smallest  number?  Well,  he  may  be  a 
small  number,"  she  indulgently  sighed,  "  but  he's 
wholly  content!  Look  at  him  now  there,"  she 
added  the  next  moment,  "  and  judge."  We  had 
resumed  our  walk  and  turned  the  corner  of  the 
house,  a  movement  that  brought  us  into  view  of  a 
couple  just  round  the  angle  of  the  terrace,  a  couple 
who,  like  ourselves,  must  have  paused  in  a  sociable 
stroll.  The  lady,  with  her  back  to  us,  leaned  a  lit- 
tle on  the  balustrade  and  looked  at  the  gardens; 
the  gentleman  close  to  her,  with  the  same  support, 
offered  us  the  face  of  Guy  Brissenden,  as  recognis- 
able at  a  distance  as  the  numbered  card  of  a  "  turn  " 
— the  black  figure  upon  white — at  a  music-hall. 
On  seeing  us  he  said  a  word  to  his  companion,  who 
quickly  jerked  round.  Then  his  wife  exclaimed  to 
me — only  with  more  sharpness — as  she  had  ex- 
claimed at  Mme.  de  Dreuil :  "  By  all  that's  lovely — 
May  Server !  "  I  took  it,  on  the  spot,  for  a  kind 
of  "  Eureka !  "  but  without  catching  my  friend's 
idea.  I  was  only  aware  at  first  that  this  idea  left 
me  as  unconvinced  as  when  the  other  possibilities 
had  passed  before  us.  Wasn't  it  simply  the  result 
of  this  lady's  being  the  only  one  we  had  happened 
not  to  eliminate?  She  had  not  even  occurred  to 

44 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

us.  She  was  pretty  enough  perhaps  for  any  magic, 
but  she  hadn't  the  other  signs.  I  didn't  believe, 
somehow — certainly  not  on  such  short  notice — 
either  in  her  happiness  or  in  her  flatness.  There 
was  a  vague  suggestion,  of  a  sort,  in  our  having 
found  her  there  with  Brissenden :  there  would  have 
been  a  pertinence,  to  our  curiosity,  or  at  least  to 
mine,  in  this  juxtaposition  of  the  two  persons  who 
paid,  as  I  had  amused  myself  with  calling  it,  so 
heroically;  yet  I  had  only  to  have  it  marked  for  me 
(to  see  them,  that  is,  side  by  side,)  in  order  to  feel 
how  little — at  any  rate  superficially — the  graceful, 
natural,  charming  woman  ranged  herself  with  the 
superannuated  youth. 

She  had  said  a  word  to  him  at  sight  of  us,  in  an- 
swer to  his  own,  and  in  a  minute  or  two  they  had  met 
us.  This  had  given  me  time  for  more  than  one 
reflection.  It  had  also  given  Mrs.  Brissenden  time 
to  insist  to  me  on  her  identification,  which  I  could 
see  she  would  be  much  less  quick  to  drop  than  in 
the  former  cases.  "  We  have  her,"  she  murmured; 
"  we  have  her;  it's  she! "  It  was  by  her  insistance 
in  fact  that  my  thought  was  quickened.  It  even 
felt  a  kind  of  chill — an  odd  revulsion — at  the  touch 
of  her  eagerness.  Singular  perhaps  that  only  then 
— yet  quite  certainly  then — the  curiosity  to  which 
I  had  so  freely  surrendered  myself  began  to  strike 
me  as  wanting  in  taste.  It  was  reflected  in  Mrs. 
Brissenden  quite  by  my  fault,  and  I  can't  say  just 

45 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

what  cause  for  shame,  after  so  much  talk  of  our 
search  and  our  scent,  I  found  in  our  awakened  and 
confirmed  keenness.  Why  in  the  world  hadn't  I 
found  it  before?  My  scruple,  in  short,  was  a  thing 
of  the  instant;  it  was  in  a  positive  flash  that  the 
amusing  question  was  stamped  for  me  as  none  of 
my  business.  One  of  the  reflections  I  have  just 
mentioned  was  that  I  had  not  had  a  happy  hand  in 
making  it  so  completely  Mrs.  Brissenden's.  An- 
other was,  however,  that  nothing,  fortunately,  that 
had  happened  between  us  really  signified.  For 
what  had  so  suddenly  overtaken  me  was  the  con- 
sciousness of  this  anomaly:  that  I  was  at  the  same 
time  as  disgusted  as  if  I  had  exposed  Mrs.  Server 
and  absolutely  convinced  that  I  had  yet  not  exposed 
her. 

While,  after  the  others  had  greeted  us  and  we 
stood  in  vague  talk,  I  caught  afresh  the  effect  of 
their  juxtaposition,  I  grasped,  with  a  private  joy 
that  was  quite  extravagant — as  so  beyond  the  need- 
ed mark — at  the  reassurance  it  offered.  This  reas- 
surance sprang  straight  from  a  special  source. 
Brissenden's  secret  was  so  aware  of  itself  as  to  be 
always  on  the  defensive.  Shy  and  suspicious,  it 
was  as  much  on  the  defensive  at  present  as  I  had 
felt  it  to  be — so  far  as  I  was  concerned — the  night 
before.  What  was  there  accordingly  in  Mrs.  Ser- 
ver— frank  and  fragrant  in  the  morning  air — to 
correspond  to  any  such  consciousness?  Nothing 

46 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

whatever — not  a  symptom.  Whatever  secrets  she 
might  have  had,  she  had  not  that  one;  she  was  not 
in  the  same  box;  the  sacred  fount,  in  her,  was  not 
threatened  with  exhaustion.  We  all  soon  re- 
entered  the  house  together,  but  Mrs.  Brissenden, 
during  the  few  minutes  that  followed,  managed  to 
possess  herself  of  the  subject  of  her  denunciation. 
She  put  me  off  with  Guy,  and  I  couldn't  help  feeling 
it  as  a  sign  of  her  concentration.  She  warmed  to 
the  question  just  as  I  had  thrown  it  over;  and  I 
asked  myself  rather  ruefully  what  on  earth  I  had 
been  thinking  of.  I  hadn't  in  the  least  had  it  in 
mind  to  "  compromise  "  an  individual;  but  an  in- 
dividual would  be  compromised  if  I  didn't  now  take 
care. 


47 


IV 

T  HAVE  said  that  I  did  many  things  on  this 
•*•  wonderful  day,  but  perhaps  the  simplest  way 
to  describe  the  rest  of  them  is  as  a  sustained  attempt 
to  avert  that  disaster.  I  succeeded,  by  vigilance,  in 
preventing  my  late  companion  from  carrying  Mrs. 
Server  off:  I  had  no  wish  to  see  her  studied — by 
anyone  but  myself  at  least — in  the  light  of  my 
theory.  I  felt  by  this  time  that  I  understood  my 
theory,  but  I  was  not  obliged  to  believe  that  Mrs. 
Brissenden  did.  I  am  afraid  I  must  frankly  con- 
fess that  I  called  deception  to  my  aid;  to  separate 
the  two  ladies  I  gave  the  more  initiated  a  look  in 
which  I  invited  her  to  read  volumes.  This  look, 
or  rather  the  look  she  returned,  comes  back  to  me 
as  the  first  note  of  a  tolerably  tight,  tense  little 
drama,  a  little  drama  of  which  our  remaining  hours 
at  Newmarch  were  the  all  too  ample  stage.  She 
understood  me,  as  I  meant,  that  she  had  better  leave 
me  to  get  at  the  truth — owing  me  some  obligation, 
as  she  did,  for  so  much  of  it  as  I  had  already  com- 
municated. This  step  was  of  course  a  tacit  pledge 
that  she  should  have  the  rest  from  me  later  on.  I 
knew  of  some  pictures  in  one  of  the  rooms  that  had 

48 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

not  been  lighted  the  previous  evening,  and  I  made 
these  my  pretext  for  the  effect  I  desired.  I  asked 
Mrs.  Server  if  she  wouldn't  come  and  see  them 
with  me,  admitting  at  the  same  time  that  I  could 
scarce  expect  her  to  forgive  me  for  my  share  in  the 
invasion  of  the  quiet  corner  in  which  poor  Briss 
had  evidently  managed  so  to  interest  her. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  replied  as  we  went  our  way,  "  he 
had  managed  to  interest  me.  Isn't  he  curiously 
interesting?  But  I  hadn't,"  she  continued  on  my 
being  too  struck  with  her  question  for  an  immediate 
answer — "  I  hadn't  managed  to  interest  him.  Of 
course  you  know  why !  "  she  laughed.  "  No  one 
interests  him  but  Lady  John,  and  he  could  think 
of  nothing,  while  I  kept  him  there,  but  of  how  soon 
he  could  return  to  her." 

These  remarks — of  which  I  give  rather  the  sense 
than  the  form,  for  they  were  a  little  scattered  and 
troubled,  and  I  helped  them  out  and  pieced  them 
together — these  remarks  had  for  me,  I  was  to  find, 
unexpected  suggestions,  not  all  of  which  was  I  pre- 
pared on  the  spot  to  take  up.  "  And  is  Lady  John 
interested  in  our  friend?  " 

"  Not,  I  suppose,  given  her  situation,  so  much 
as  he  would  perhaps  desire.  You  don't  know  what 
her  situation  is?  "  she  went  on  while  I  doubtless  ap- 
peared to  be  sunk  in  innocence.  "  Isn't  it  rather 
marked  that  there's  only  one  person  she's  interested 
in?" 

49 


s 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  One  person?  "     I  was  thoroughly  at  sea. 

But  we  had  reached  with  it  the  great  pictured 
saloon  with  which  I  had  proposed  to  assist  her  to 
renew  acquaintance  and  in  which  two  visitors  had 
anticipated  us.  "  Why,  here  he  is !  "  she  exclaimed 
as  we  paused,  for  admiration,  in  the  doorway.  The 
high  frescoed  ceiling  arched  over  a  floor  so  highly 
polished  that  it  seemed  to  reflect  the  faded  pastels 
set,  in  rococo  borders,  in  the  walls  and  constituting 
the  distinction  of  the  place.  Our  companions,  ex- 
amining together  one  of  the  portraits  and  turning 
their  backs,  were  at  the  opposite  end,  and  one  of 
them  was  Gilbert  Long. 

I  immediately  named  the  other.  "  Do  you  mean 
Ford  Obert?" 

She  gave  me,  with  a  laugh,  one  of  her  beautiful 
looks.  "Yes!" 

It  was  answer  enough  for  the  moment,  and  the 
manner  of  it  showed  me  to  what  legend  she  was 
committed.  I  asked  myself,  while  the  two  men 
faced  about  to  meet  us,  why  she  was  committed  to 
it,  and  I  further  considered  that  if  Grace  Brissenden, 
against  every  appearance,  was  right,  there  would 
now  be  something  for  me  to  see.  Which  of  the 
two — the  agent  or  the  object  of  the  sacrifice — 
would  take  most  precautions?  I  kept  my  compan- 
ion purposely,  for  a  little  while,  on  our  side  of  the 
room,  leaving  the  others,  interested  in  their  obser- 
vations, to  take  their  time  to  join  us.  It  gave  me 

50 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

occasion  to  wonder  if  the  question  mightn't  be 
cleared  up  on  the  spot.  There  was  no  question,  I 
had  compunctiously  made  up  my  mind,. for  Mrs. 
Server;  but  now  I  should  see  the  proof  of  that  con- 
clusion. The  proof  of  it  would  be,  between  her  and 
her  imputed  lover,  the  absence  of  anything  that 
was  not  perfectly  natural.  Mrs.  Server,  with  her 
eyes  raised  to  the  painted  dome,  with  response 
charmed  almost  to  solemnity  in  her  exquisite  face, 
struck  me  at  this  moment,  I  had  to  concede,  as  more 
than  ever  a  person  to  have  a  lover  imputed.  The 
place,  save  for  its  pictures  of  later  date,  a  triumph 
of  the  florid  decoration  of  two  centuries  ago,  evi- 
dently met  her  special  taste,  and  a  kind  of  profane 
piety  had  dropped  on  her,  drizzling  down,  in  the  cold 
light,  in  silver,  in  crystal,  in  faint,  mixed  delicacies 
of  colour,  almost  as  on  a  pilgrim  at  a  shrine.  I  don't 
know  what  it  was  in  her — save,  that  is,  the  positive 
pitch  of  delicacy  in  her  beauty — that  made  her,  so 
impressed  and  presented,  indescribably  touching. 
She  was  like  an  awestruck  child;  she  might  have 
been  herself — all  Greuze  tints,  all  pale  pinks  and 
blues  and  pearly  whites  and  candid  eyes — an  old 
dead  pastel  under  glass. 

She  was  not  too  reduced  to  this  state,  however, 
not  to  take,  soon  enough,  her  own  precaution — if  a 
precaution  it  was  to  be  deemed.  I  was  acutely 
conscious  that  the  naturalness  to  which  I  have  just 
alluded  would  be,  for  either  party,  the  only  precau- 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

tion  worth  speaking  of.  We  moved  slowly  round 
the  room,  pausing  here  and  there  for  curiosity;  dur- 
ing which  time  the  two  men  remained  where  we 
had  found  them.  She  had  begun  at  last  to  watch 
them  and  had  proposed  that  we  should  see  in  what 
they  were  so  absorbed;  but  I  checked  her  in  the 
movement,  raising  my  hand  in  a  friendly  admoni- 
tion to  wait.  We  waited  then,  face  to  face,  looking 
at  each  other  as  if  to  catch  a  strain  of  music.  This 
was  what  I  had  intended,  for  it  had  just  come  to  me 
that  one  of  the  voices  was  in  the  air  and  that  it  had 
imposed  close  attention.  The  distinguished  painter 
listened  while — to  all  appearance — Gilbert  Long 
did,  in  the  presence  of  the  picture,  the  explaining. 
Ford  Obert  moved,  after  a  little,  but  not  so  as  to  in- 
terrupt— only  so  as  to  show  me  his  face  in  a  recall 
of  what  had  passed  between  us  the  night  before  in 
the  smoking-room.  I  turned  my  eyes  from  Mrs. 
Server's;  I  allowed  myself  to  commune  a  little, 
across  the  shining  space,  with  those  of  our  fellow- 
auditor.  The  occasion  had  thus  for  a  minute  the 
oddest  little  air  of  an  aesthetic  lecture  prompted  by 
accidental,  but  immense,  suggestions  and  delivered 
by  Gilbert  Long. 

I  couldn't,  at  the  distance,  with  my  companion, 
quite  follow  it,  but  Obert  was  clearly  patient 
enough  to  betray  that  he  was  struck.  His  impres- 
sion was  at  any  rate  doubtless  his  share  of  surprise 
at  Long's  gift  of  talk.  This  was  what  his  eyes  in- 

52 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

deed  most  seemed  to  throw  over  to  me — "  What  an 
unexpected  demon  of  a  critic !  "  It  was  extraordi- 
narily interesting — I  don't  mean  the  special  drift  of 
Long's  eloquence,  which  I  couldn't,  as  I  say,  catch; 
but  the  phenomenon  of  his,  of  all  people,  dealing  in 
that  article.  It  put  before  me  the  question  of 
whether,  in  these  strange  relations  that  I  believed  I 
had  thus  got  my  glimpse  of,  the  action  of  the  per- 
son "  sacrificed  "  mightn't  be  quite  out  of  propor- 
tion to  the  resources  of  that  person.  It  was  as  if 
these  elements  might  really  multiply  in  the  transfer 
made  of  them;  as  if  the  borrower  practically  found 
himself — or  herself — in  possession  of  a  greater  sum 
than  the  known  property  of  the  creditor.  The  sur- 
render, in  this  way,  added,  by  pure  beauty,  to  the 
thing  surrendered.  We  all  know  the  French  adage 
about  that  plus  belle  fille  du  monde  who  can  give  but 
what  she  has;  yet  if  Mrs.  Server,  for  instance,  had 
been  the  heroine  of  this  particular  connection,  the 
communication  of  her  intelligence  to  her  friend 
would  quite  have  falsified  it.  She  would  have  given 
much  more  than  she  had. 

When  Long  had  finished  his  demonstration  and 
his  charged  voice  had  dropped,  we  crossed  to  claim 
acquaintance  with  the  work  that  had  inspired  him. 
The  place  had  not  been  completely  new  to  Mrs. 
Server  any  more  than  to  myself,  and  the  impression 
now  made  on  her  was  but  the  intenser  vibration  of 
a  chord  already  stirred;  nevertheless  I  was  struck 

53 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

with  her  saying,  as  a  result  of  more  remembrance 
than  I  had  attributed  to  her  "  Oh  yes, — the  man 
with  the  mask  in  his  hand !  "  On  our  joining  the 
others  I  expressed  regret  at  our  having  turned  up 
too  late  for  the  ideas  that,  on  a  theme  so  promis- 
ing, they  would  have  been  sure  to  produce,  and 
Obert,  quite  agreeing  that  we  had  lost  a  treat,  said 
frankly,  in  reference  to  Long,  but  addressing  him- 
self more  especially  to  Mrs.  Server :  "  He's  per- 
fectly amazing,  you  know — he's  perfectly  amaz- 
ing!" 

I  observed  that  as  a  consequence  of  this  Long 
looked  neither  at  Mrs.  Server  nor  at  Obert;  he 
looked  only  at  me,  and  with  quite  a  penetrable  shade 
of  shyness.  Then  again  a  strange  thing  happened,  a 
stranger  thing  even  than  my  quick  sense,  the  pre- 
vious afternoon  at  the  station,  that  he  was  a 
changed  man.  It  was  as  if  he  were  still  more 
changed — had  altered  as  much  since  the  evening 
before  as  during  the  so  much  longer  interval  of 
which  I  had  originally  to  take  account.  He  had 
altered  almost  like  Grace  Brissenden — he  looked 
fairly  distinguished.  I  said  to  myself  that,  without 
his  stature  and  certain  signs  in  his  dress,  I  should 
probably  not  have  placed  him.  Engrossed  an  in- 
stant with  this  view  and  with  not  losing  touch  of  the 
uneasiness  that  I  conceived  I  had  fastened  on  him, 
I  became  aware  only  after  she  had  spoken  that  Mrs. 
Server  had  gaily  and  gracefully  asked  of  Obert  why 

54 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

in  the  world  so  clever  a  man  should  not  have  been 
clever.  "  Obert,"  I  accordingly  took  upon  myself 
to  remark,  "  had  evidently  laboured  under  some 
extraordinary  delusion.  He  must  literally  have 
doubted  if  Long  was  clever." 

"  Fancy !  "  Mrs.  Server  explained  with  a  charm- 
ing smile  at  Long,  who,  still  looking  pleasantly 
competent  and  not  too  fatuous,  amiably  returned  it. 

"  They're  natural,  they're  natural,"  I  privately 
reflected;  "  that  is,  he's  natural  to  her,  but  he's  not 
so  to  me."  And  as  if  seeing  depths  in  this,  and  to 
try  it,  I  appealed  to  him.  "  Do,  my  dear  man,  let 
us  have  it  again.  It's  the  picture,  of  all  pictures, 
that  most  needs  an  interpreter.  Don't  we  want,"  I 
asked  of  Mrs.  Server,  "to  know  what  it  means?" 
The  figure  represented  is  a  young  man  in  black — 
a  quaint,  tight  black  dress,  fashioned  in  years  long 
past;  with  a  pale,  lean,  livid  face  and  a  stare,  from 
eyes  without  eyebrows,  like  that  of  some  whitened 
old-world  clown.  In  his  hand  he  holds  an  object 
that  strikes  the  spectator  at  first  simply  as  some 
obscure,  some  ambiguous  work  of  art,  but  that  on  a 
second  view  becomes  a  representation  of  a  human 
face,  modelled  and  coloured,  in  wax,  in  enamelled 
metal,  in  some  substance  not  human.  The  object 
thus  appears  a  complete  mask,  such  as  might  have 
been  fantastically  fitted  and  worn. 

"Yes,  what  in  the  world  does  it  mean?"  Mrs. 
Server  replied.  "  One  could  call  it — though  that 

55 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

doesn't  get  one  much  further  —  the  Mask  of 
Death/' 

"Why  so?"  I  demanded  while  we  all  again 
looked  at  the  picture.  "  Isn't  it  much  rather  the 
Mask  of  Life?  It's  the  man's  own  face  that's 
Death.  The  other  one,  blooming  and  beauti- 
ful- 

"  Ah,  but  with  an  awful  grimace ! "  Mrs.  Server 
broke  in. 

"  The  other  one,  blooming  and  beautiful,"  I  re- 
peated, "  is  Life,  and  he's  going  to  put  it  on;  unless 
indeed  he  has  just  taken  it  off." 

"  He's  dreadful,  he's  awful — that's  what  I  mean," 
said  Mrs.  Server.  "  But  what  does  Mr.  Long 
think?  " 

"  The  artificial  face,  on  the  other  hand,"  I  went 
on,  as  Long  now  said  nothing,  "  is  extremely 
studied  and,  when  you  carefully  look  at  it,  charm- 
ingly pretty.  I  don't  see  the  grimace." 

"  I  don't  see  anything  else !  "  Mrs.  Server  good- 
humouredly  insisted.  "  And  what  does  Mr.  Obert 
think?  " 

He  kept  his  eyes  on  her  a  moment  before  re- 
plying. "  He  thinks  it  looks  like  a  lovely  lady." 

"  That  grinning  mask?     What  lovely  lady?  " 

"  It  does,"  I  declared  to  him,  really  seeing  what 
he  meant  — "  it  does  look  remarkably  like  Mrs. 
Server." 

She  laughed,  but  forgivingly.     "  I'm  immensely 

56 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

obliged.  You  deserve,"  she  continued  to  me,  "  that 
I  should  say  the  gentleman's  own  face  is  the  image 
of  a  certain  other  gentleman's." 

"  It  isn't  the  image  of  yours,"  Obert  said  to  me, 
fitting  the  cap,  "  but  it's  a  funny  thing  that  it 
should  really  recall  to  one  some  face  among  us  here, 
on  this  occasion — I  mean  some  face  in  our  party — 
that  I  can't  think  of."  We  had  our  eyes  again  on 
the  ominous  figure.  "  We've  seen  him  yesterday — 
we've  seen  him  already  this  morning."  Obert, 
oddly  enough,  still  couldn't  catch  it.  "  Who  the 
deuce  is  it?" 

"  I  know,"  I  returned  after  a  moment  —  our 
friend's  reference  having  again,  in  a  flash,  become 
illuminating.  "  But  nothing  would  induce  me  to 
tell." 

"  If  /  were  the  flattered  individual,"  Long  ob- 
served, speaking  for  the  first  time,  "  I've  an  idea 
that  you'd  give  me  the  benefit  of  the  compliment. 
Therefore  it's  probably  not  me." 

"  Oh,  it's  not  you  in  the  least,"  Mrs.  Server 
blandly  took  upon  herself  to  observe.  "  This  face 
is  so  bad " 

"  And  mine  is  so  good?"  our  companion  laughed. 
"  Thank  you  for  saving  me !  " 

I  watched  them  look  at  each  other,  for  there  had 
been  as  yet  between  them  no  complete  exchange. 
Yes,  they  were  natural.  I  couldn't  have  made  it 
out  that  they  were  not.  But  there  was  something, 

57 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

all  the  same,  that  I  wanted  to  know,  and  I  put  it 
immediately  to  Long.  "  Why  do  you  bring  against 
me  such  an  accusation?" 

He  met  the  question — singularly  enough — as  if 
his  readiness  had  suddenly  deserted  him.  "  I  don't 
know !  " — and  he  turned  off  to  another  picture. 

It  left  the  three  of  us  all  the  more  confronted 
with  the  conundrum  launched  by  Obert,  and  Mrs. 
Server's  curiosity  remained.  "  Do  name,"  she  said 
to  me,  "  the  flattered  individual." 

"  No,  it's  a  responsibility  I  leave  to  Obert." 

But  he  was  clearly  still  at  fault;  he  was  like  a 
man  desiring,  but  unable,  to  sneeze.  "  I  see  the 
fellow — yet  I  don't.  Never  mind."  He  turned 
away  too.  "  He'll  come  to  me." 

"  The  resemblance,"  said  Long,  on  this,  at  a  dis- 
tance from  us  and  not  turning,  "  the  resemblance, 
which  I  shouldn't  think  would  puzzle  anyone,  is 
simply  to  '  poor  Briss  ' !  " 

"  Oh,  of  course !  " — and  Obert  gave  a  jump 
round. 

"Ah — I  do  see  it,"  Mrs.  Server  conceded  with 
her  head  on  one  side,  but  as  if  speaking  rather  for 
harmony. 

I  didn't  believe  she  saw  it,  but  that  only  made  her 
the  more  natural;  which  was  also  the  air  she  had  on 
going  to  join  Long,  in  his  new  contemplation, 
after  I  had  admitted  that  it  was  of  Brissenden  I  my- 
self had  thought.  Obert  and  I  remained  together 

53 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

in  the  presence  of  the  Man  with  the  Mask,  and,  the 
others  being  out  of  earshot,  he  reminded  me  that 
I  had  promised  him  the  night  before  in  the  smok- 
ing-room to  give  him  to-day  the  knowledge  I  had 
then  withheld.  If  I  had  announced  that  I  was  on 
the  track  of  a  discovery,  pray  had  I  made  it  yet,  and 
what  was  it,  at  any  rate,  that  I  proposed  to  discover? 
I  felt  now,  in  truth,  more  uncomfortable  than  I  had 
expected  in  being  kept  to  my  obligation,  and  I  beat 
about  the  bush  a  little  till,  instead  of  meeting  it,  I 
was  able  to  put  the  natural  question :  "  What  won- 
derful things  was  Long  just  saying  to  you?  " 

"  Oh,  characteristic  ones  enough — whimsical, 
fanciful,  funny.  The  things  he  says,  you  know." 

It  was  indeed  a  fresh  view.  "  They  strike  you  as 
characteristic?  " 

"  Of  the  man  himself  and  his  type  of  mind? 
Surely.  Don't  you?  He  talks  to  talk,  but  he's 
really  amusing." 

I  was  watching  our  companions.  "  Indeed  he  is 
— extraordinarily  amusing."  It  was  highly  inter- 
esting to  me  to  hear  at  last  of  Long's  "  type  of 
mind."  "  See  how  amusing  he  is  at  the  present 
moment  to  Mrs.  Server." 

Obert  took  this  in;  she  was  convulsed,  in  the  ex- 
travagance always  so  pretty  as  to  be  pardonable, 
with  laughter,  and  she  even  looked  over  at  us  as 
if  to  intimate  with  her  shining,  lingering  eyes  that 
we  wouldn't  be  surprised  at  her  transports  if  we 

59 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

suspected  what  her  entertainer,  whom  she  had 
never  known  for  such  a  humourist,  was  saying.  In- 
stead of  going  to  find  out,  all  the  same,  we  remained 
another  minute  together.  It  was  for  me,  now,  I 
could  see,  that  Obert  had  his  best  attention. 
"  What's  the  matter  with  them?  " 

It  startled  me  almost  as  much  as  if  he  had  asked 
me  what  was  the  matter  with  myself — for  that  some- 
thing was,  under  this  head,  I  was  by  this  time  un- 
able to  ignore.  Not  twenty  minutes  had  elapsed 
since  our  meeting  with  Mrs.  Server  on  the  terrace 
had  determined  Grace  Brissenden's  elation,  but  it 
was  a  fact  that  my  nervousness  had  taken  an  ex- 
traordinary stride.  I  had  perhaps  not  till  this  in- 
stant been  fully  aware  of  it — it  was  really  brought 
out  by  the  way  Obert  looked  at  me  as  if  he  fancied 
he  had  heard  me  shake.  Mrs.  Server  might  be  nat- 
ural, and  Gilbert  Long  might  be,  but  I  should  not 
preserve  that  calm  unless  I  pulled  myself  well  to- 
gether. I  made  the  effort,  facing  my  sharp  inter- 
locutor; and  I  think  it  was  at  this  point  that  I  fully 
measured  my  dismay.  I  had  grown — that  was 
what  was  the  matter  with  me — precipitately,  pre- 
posterously anxious.  Instead  of  dropping,  the  dis- 
comfort produced  in  me  by  Mrs.  Brissenden  had 
deepened  to  agitation,  and  this  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  in  the  brief  interval  nothing  worse,  nothing  but 
what  was  right,  had  happened.  Had  I  myself  sud- 
denly fallen  so  much  in  love  with  Mrs.  Server  that 

60 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

the  care  for  her  reputation  had  become  with  me  an 
obsession?  It  was  of  no  use  saying  I  simply  pitied 
her:  what  did  I  pity  her  for  if  she  wasn't  in  danger? 
She  was  in  clanger :  that  rushed  over  me  at  present 
— rushed  over  me  while  I  tried  to  look  easy  and  de- 
layed to  answer  my  friend.  She  was  in  danger — if 
only  because  she  had  caught  and  held  the  search- 
light of  Obert's  attention.  I  took  up  his  inquiry. 
"The  matter  with  them?  I  don't  know  anything 
but  that  they're  young  and  handsome  and  happy — 
children,  as  who  should  say,  of  the  world;  children 
of  leisure  and  pleasure  and  privilege." 

Obert's  eyes  went  back  to  them.  "  Do  you  re- 
member what  I  said  to  you  about  her  yesterday 
afternoon?  She  darts  from  flower  to  flower,  but 
she  clings,  for  the  time,  to  each.  You've  been  feel- 
ing, I  judge,  the  force  of  my  remark." 

"  Oh,  she  didn't  at  all  '  dart,'  "  I  replied,  "  just 
now  at  me.  I  darted,  much  rather,  at  her." 

"  Long  didn't,  then,"  Obert  said,  still  with  his 
eyes  on  them. 

I  had  to  wait  a  moment.  "  Do  you  mean  he 
struck  you  as  avoiding  her?  " 

He  in  turn  considered.  "  He  struck  me  as  hav- 
ing noticed  with  what  intensity,  ever  since  we  came 
down,  she  has  kept  alighting.  She  inaugurated  it, 
the  instant  she  arrived,  with  me,  and  every  man  of 
us  has  had  his  turn.  I  dare  say  it's  only  fair,  cer- 
tainly, that  Long  should  have." 

61 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  He's  lucky  to  get  it,  the  brute !  She's  as 
charming  as  she  can  possibly  be." 

"  That's  it,  precisely;  and  it's  what  no  woman 
ought  to  be — as  charming  as  she  possibly  can! — 
more  than  once  or  twice  in  her  life.  This  lady  is 
so  every  blessed  minute,  and  to  every  blessed  male. 
It's  as  if  she  were  too  awfully  afraid  one  wouldn't 
take  it  in.  If  she  but  knew  how  one  does !  How- 
ever," my  friend  continued,  "  you'll  recollect  that 
we  differed  about  her  yesterday — and  what  does  it 
signify?  One  should  of  course  bear  lightly  on  any- 
thing so  light.  But  I  stick  to  it  that  she's  differ- 
ent." 

I  pondered.     "  Different  from  whom?  " 

"  Different  from  herself — as  she  was  when  I 
painted  her.  There's  something  the  matter  with 
her." 

"  Ah,  then,  it's  for  me  to  ask  you  what.  I  don't 
myself,  you  see,  perceive  it." 

He  made  for  a  little  no  answer,  and  we  were  both 
indeed  by  this  time  taken  up  with  the  withdrawal 
of  the  two  other  members  of  our  group.  They 
moved  away  together  across  the  shining  floor,  paus- 
ing, looking  up  at  the  painted  vault,  saying  the  in- 
evitable things — bringing  off  their  retreat,  in  short, 
in  the  best  order.  It  struck  me  somehow  as  a  re- 
treat, and  yet  I  insisted  to  myself,  once  more,  on  its 
being  perfectly  natural.  At  the  high  door,  which 
stood  open,  they  stopped  a  moment  and  looked 

62 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

back  at  us — looked  frankly,  sociably,  as  if  in  con- 
sciousness of  our  sympathetic  attention.  Mrs. 
Server  waved,  as  in  temporary  farewell,  a  free  ex- 
planatory hand  at  me;  she  seemed  to  explain  that 
she  was  now  trying  somebody  else.  Obert  more- 
over added  his  explanation.  "  That's  the  way  she 
collars  us." 

"  Oh,  Long  doesn't  mind,"  I  said.  "  But  what's 
the  way  she  strikes  you  as  different?  " 

"  From  what  she  was  when  she  sat  to  me?  Well, 
a  part  of  it  is  that  she  can't  keep  still.  She  was  as 
still  then  as  if  she  had  been  paid  for  it.  Now  she's 
all  over  the  place."  But  he  came  back  to  some- 
thing else.  "  I  like  your  talking,  my  dear  man,  of 
what  you  '  don't  perceive.'  I've  yet  to  find  out 
what  that  remarkable  quantity  is.  What  you  do 
perceive  has  at  all  events  given  me  so  much  to  think 
about  that  it  doubtless  ought  to  serve  me  for  the 
present.  I  feel  I  ought  to  let  you  know  that  you've 
made  me  also  perceive  the  Brissendens."  I  of 
course  remembered  what  I  had  said  to  him,  but  it 
was  just  this  that  now  touched  my  uneasiness,  and 
I  only  echoed  the  name,  a  little  blankly,  with  the  in- 
stinct of  gaining  time.  "  You  put  me  on  them 
wonderfully,"  Obert  continued,  "  though  of  course 
I've  kept  your  idea  to  myself.  All  the  same  it  sheds 
a  great  light." 

I  could  again  but  feebly  repeat  it.  "  A  great 
light?" 

63 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

"  As  to  what  may  go  on  even  between  others  still. 
It's  a  jolly  idea — a  torch  in  the  darkness;  and  do 
you  know  what  I've  done  with  it?  I've  held  it  up, 
I  don't  mind  telling  you,  to  just  the  question  of  the 
change,  since  this  interests  you,  in  Mrs.  Server.  If 
you've  got  your  mystery  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  won't 
have  mine.  If  you've  got  your  Brissendens  I  shall 
see  what  I  can  do  with  her.  You've  given  me  an 
analogy,  and  I  declare  I  find  it  dazzling.  I  don't 
see  the  end  of  what  may  be  done  with  it.  If  Bris- 
senden's  paying  for  his  wife,  for  her  amazing  second 
bloom,  who's  paying  for  Mrs.  Server?  Isn't  that — 
what  do  the  newspapers  call  it? — the  missing  word? 
Isn't  it  perhaps  in  fact  just  what  you  told  me  last 
night  you  were  on  the  track  of?  But  don't  add 
now,"  he  went  on,  more  and  more  amused  with  his 
divination,  "  don't  add  now  that  the  man's  obvi- 
ously Gilbert  Long — for  I  won't  be  put  off  with 
anything  of  the  sort.  She  collared  him  much  too 
markedly.  The  real  man  must  be  one  she  doesn't 
markedly  collar." 

"  But  I  thought  that  what  you  a  moment  ago 
made  out  was  that  she  so  markedly  collars  all  of  us." 
This  was  my  immediate  reply  to  Obert's  blaze  of 
ingenuity,  but  I  none  the  less  saw  more  things  in  it 
than  I  could  reply  to.  I  saw,  at  any  rate,  and  saw 
with  relief,  that  if  he  should  look  on  the  principle 
suggested  to  him  by  the  case  of  the  Brissendens, 
there  would  be  no  danger  at  all  of  his  finding  it.  If, 

64 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

accordingly,  I  was  nervous  for  Mrs.  Server,  all  I  had 
to  do  was  to  keep  him  on  this  false  scent.  Since  it 
was  not  she  who  was  paid  for,  but  she  who  possibly 
paid,  his  fancy  might  harmlessly  divert  him  till  the 
party  should  disperse.  At  the  same  time,  in  the 
midst  of  these  reflections,  the  question  of  the 
"  change  "  in  her,  which  he  was  in  so  much  better 
a  position  than  I  to  measure,  couldn't  help  having 
for  me  its  portent,  and  the  sense  of  that  was,  no 
doubt,  in  my  next  words.  "  What  makes  you 
think  that  what  you  speak  of  was  what  I  had  in  my 
head?" 

"  Well,  the  way,  simply,  that  the  shoe  fits.  She's 
absolutely  not  the  same  person  I  painted.  It's  ex- 
actly like  Mrs.  Brissenden's  having  been  for  you 
yesterday  not  the  same  person  you  had  last  seen 
bearing  her  name." 

"  Very  good,"  I  returned,  "  though  I  didn't  in 
the  least  mean  to  set  you  digging  so  hard.  How- 
ever, dig  on  your  side,  by  all  means,  while  I  dig  on 
mine.  All  I  ask  of  you  is  complete  discretion." 

"Ah,  naturally!" 

"  We  ought  to  remember,"  I  pursued,  even  at 
the  risk  of  showing  as  too  sententious,  "  that  suc- 
cess in  such  an  inquiry  may  perhaps  be  more  em- 
barrassing than  failure.  To  nose  about  for  a  re- 
lation that  a  lady  has  her  reasons  for  keeping 
secret " 

"  Is  made  not  only  quite  inoffensive,  I  hold  " — 
65 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

he  immediately  took  me  up — "  but  positively  hon- 
ourable, by  being  confined  to  psychologic  evi- 
dence." 

I  wondered  a  little.     "  Honourable  to  whom?  " 

"  Why,  to  the  investigator.  Resting  on  the  kind 
of  signs  that  the  game  takes  account  of  when  fairly 
played — resting  on  psychologic  signs  alone,  it's  a 
high  application  of  intelligence.  What's  ignoble  is 
the  detective  and  the  keyhole." 

"  I  see,"  I  after  a  moment  admitted.  "  I  did 
have,  last  night,  my  scruples,  but  you  warm  me  up. 
Yet  I  confess  also,"  I  still  added,  "  that  if  I  do  mus- 
ter the  courage  of  my  curiosity,  it's  a  little  because 
I  feel  even  yet,  as  I  think  you  also  must,  altogether 
destitute  of  a  material  clue.  If  I  had  a  material  clue 
I  should  feel  ashamed :  the  fact  would  be  deterrent. 
I  start,  for  my  part,  at  any  rate,  quite  in  the  dark — 
or  in  a  darkness  lighted,  at  best,  by  what  you  have 
called  the  torch  of  my  analogy.  The  analogy  too," 
I  wound  up,  "  may  very  well  be  only  half  a  help. 
It  was  easy  to  find  poor  Briss,  because  poor  Briss 
is  here,  and  it's  always  easy,  moreover,  to  find  a 
husband.  But  say  Mrs.  Server's  poor  Briss 
— or  his  equivalent,  whoever  it  may  be  —  isn't 
here." 

We  had  begun  to  walk  away  with  this,  but  my 
companion  pulled  up  at  the  door  of  the  room. 
"  I'm  sure  he  is.  She  tells  me  he's  near." 

"  '  Tells  '  you?  "  I  challenged  it,  but  I  uncom- 
66 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

fortably  reflected  that  it  was  just  what  I  had  myself 
told  Mrs.  Brissenden. 

"  She  wouldn't  be  as  she  is  if  he  weren't.  Her 
being  as  she  is  is  the  sign  of  it.  He  wasn't  present 
— that  is  he  wasn't  present  in  her  life  at  all — when 
I  painted  her;  and  the  difference  we're  impressed 
with  is  exactly  the  proof  that  he  is  now." 

My  difficulty  in  profiting  by  the  relief  he  had  so 
unconsciously  afforded  me  resided  of  course  in  my 
not  feeling  free  to  show  for  quite  as  impressed  as  he 
was.  I  hadn't  really  made  out  at  all  what  he  was 
impressed  with,  and  I  should  only  have  spoiled 
everything  by  inviting  him  to  be  definite.  This 
was  a  little  of  a  worry,  for  I  should  have  liked  to 
know;  but  on  the  other  hand  I  felt  my  track  at  pres- 
ent effectually  covered.  "  Well,  then,  grant  he's 
one  of  us.  There  are  more  than  a  dozen  of  us — 
a  dozen  even  with  you  and  me  and  Brissenden 
counted  out.  The  hitch  is  that  we're  nowhere 
without  a  primary  lead.  As  to  Brissenden  there 
was  the  lead." 

"  You  mean  as  afforded  by  his  wife's  bloated 
state,  which  was  a  signal ?  " 

"  Precisely :  for  the  search  for  something  or  other 
that  would  help  to  explain  it.  Given  his  wife's 
bloated  state,  his  own  shrunken  one  was  what  was 
to  have  been  predicated.  I  knew  definitely,  in 
other  words,  what  to  look  for." 

"  Whereas  we  don't  know  here?  " 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"  Mrs.  Server's  state,  unfortunately,"  I  replied, 
•"  is  not  bloated." 

He  laughed  at  my  "  unfortunately,"  though  rec- 
ognising that  I  spoke  merely  from  the  point  of 
view  of  lucidity,  and  presently  remarked  that  he  had 
his  own  idea.  He  didn't  say  what  it  was,  and  I 
didn't  ask,  intimating  thereby  that  I  held  it  to  be 
in  this  manner  we  were  playing  the  game;  but  I  in- 
dulgently questioned  it  in  the  light  of  its  not  yet 
having  assisted  him.  He  answered  that  the  min- 
utes we  had  just  passed  were  what  had  made  the 
difference;  it  had  sprung  from  the  strong  effect 
produced  on  him  after  she  came  in  with  me.  "  It's 
but  now  I  really  see  her.  She  did  and  said  nothing 
special,  nothing  striking  or  extraordinary;  but  that 
didn't  matter — it  never  does:  one  saw  how  she  is. 
She's  nothing  but  that" 

"  Nothing  but  what?  " 

"  She's  all  in  it,"  he  insisted.  "  Or  it's  all  in  her. 
It  comes  to  the  same  thing." 

"  Of  course  it's  all  in  her,"  I  said  as  impatiently 
as  I  could,  though  his  attestation — for  I  wholly 
trusted  his  perception — left  me  so  much  in  his  debt. 
"  That's  what  we  start  with,  isn't  it?  It  leaves  us 
as  far  as  ever  from  what  we  must  arrive  at." 

But  he  was  too  interested  in  his  idea  to  heed  my 
question.  He  was  wrapped  in  the  "  psychologic  " 
glow.  "  I  have  her !  " 

"  Ah,  but  it's  a  question  of  having  him!  " 
68 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

He  looked  at  me  on  this  as  if  I  had  brought  him 
back  to  a  mere  detail,  and  after  an  instant  the  light 
went  out  of  his  face.  "  So  it  is.  I  leave  it  to  you. 
I  don't  care."  His  drop  had  the  usual  suddenness 
of  the  drops  of  the  artistic  temperament.  "  Look 
for  the  last  man/'  he  nevertheless,  but  with  more 
detachment,  added.  "  I  daresay  it  would  be  he." 

"  The  last?     In  what  sense  the  last?  " 

"  Well,  the  last  sort  of  creature  who  could  be 
believed  of  her." 

"  Oh,"  I  rejoined  as  we  went  on,  "  the  great  bar 
to  that  is  that  such  a  sort  of  creature  as  the  last 
won't  be  here !  " 

He  hesitated.  "  So  much  the  better.  I  give 
him,  at  any  rate,  wherever  he  is,  up  to  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  I  returned,  "  for  the  beauty  of  the 
present!  You  do  see,  then,  that  our  psychologic 
glow  doesn't,  after  all,  prevent  the  thing " 

"  From  being  none  of  one's  business?  Yes. 
Poor  little  woman !  "  He  seemed  somehow  satis- 
fied; he  threw  it  all  up.  "  It  isn't  any  of  one's  busi- 
ness, is  it?  " 

"  Why,  that's  what  I  was  telling  you,"  I  impa- 
tiently exclaimed,  "  that  /  feel !  " 


69 


THE  first  thing  that  happened  to  me  after  part- 
ing with  him  was  to  find  myself  again  en- 
gaged with  Mrs.  Brissenden,  still  full  of  the  quick 
conviction  with  which  I  had  left  her.  "  It  is  she — 
quite  unmistakably,  you  know.  I  don't  see  how  I 
can  have  been  so  stupid  as  not  to  make  it  out.  I 
haven't  your  cleverness,  of  course,  till  my  nose  is 
rubbed  into  a  thing.  But  when  it  is — !  "  She 
celebrated  her  humility  in  a  laugh  that  was  proud. 
"  The  two  are  off  together." 

"Off  where?" 

"  I  don't  know  where,  but  I  saw  them  a  few  min- 
utes ago  most  distinctly  '  slope.'  They've  gone  for 
a  quiet,  unwatched  hour,  poor  dears,  out  into  the 
park  or  the  gardens.  When  one  knows  it,  it's  all 
there.  But  what's  that  vulgar  song? — '  You've 
got  to  know  it  first ! '  It  strikes  me,  if  you  don't 
mind  my  telling  you  so,  that  the  way  you  get  hold 
of  things  is  positively  uncanny.  I  mean  as  regards 
what  first  marked  her  for  you." 

"  But,  my  dear  lady,"  I  protested,  "  nothing  at 
all  first  marked  her  for  me.  She  isn't  marked  for 

70 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

me,  first  or  last.  It  was  only  you  who  so  jumped 
at  her." 

My  interlocutress  stared,  and  I  had  at  this  mo- 
ment, I  remember,  an  almost  intolerable  sense  of 
her  fatuity  and  cruelty.  They  were  all  unconscious, 
but  they  were,  at  that  stage,  none  the  less  irritating. 
Her  fine  bosom  heaved,  her  blue  eyes  expanded 
with  her  successful,  her  simplified  egotism.  I 
couldn't,  in  short,  I  found,  bear  her  being  so  keen 
about  Mrs.  Server  while  she  was  so  stupid  about 
poor  Briss.  She  seemed  to  recall  to  me  nobly  the 
fact  that  she  hadn't  a  lover.  No,  she  was  only  eat- 
ing poor  Briss  up  inch  by  inch,  but  she  hadn't  a 
lover.  "  I  don't,"  I  insisted,  "  see  in  Mrs.  Server 
any  of  the  right  signs." 

She  looked  almost  indignant.  "  Even  after  your 
telling  me  that  you  see  in  Lady  John  only  the  wrong 
ones?" 

"  Ah,  but  there  are  other  women  here  than  Mrs. 
Server  and  Lady  John." 

"  Certainly.  But  didn't  we,  a  moment  ago,  think 
of  them  all  and  dismiss  them?  If  Lady  John's  out 
of  the  question,  how  can  Mrs.  Server  possibly  not 
be  in  it?  We  want  a  fool " 

"  Ah,  do  we?  "'  I  interruptingly  wailed. 

"Why,  exactly  by  your  own  theory,  in  which 
you've  so  much  interested  me!  It  was  you  who 
struck  off  the  idea." 

"  That  we  want  a  fool?  "     I  felt  myself  turning 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

gloomy  enough.  "  Do  we  really  want  anyone  at 
all?" 

She  gave  me,  in  momentary  silence,  a  strange 
smile.  "  Ah,  you  want  to  take  it  back  now? 
You're  sorry  you  spoke.  My  dear  man,  you  may 

be "  but  that  didn't  hinder  the  fact,  in  short, 

that  I  had  kindled  near  me  a  fine,  if  modest  and 
timid,  intelligence.  There  did  remain  the  truth  of 
our  friend's  striking  development,  to  which  I  had 
called  her  attention.  Regretting  my  rashness 
didn't  make  the  prodigy  less.  "  You'll  lead  me  to 
believe,  if  you  back  out,  that  there's  suddenly  some- 
one you  want  to  protect.  Weak  man,"  she  ex- 
claimed with  an  assurance  from  which,  I  confess,  I 
was  to  take  alarm,  "  something  has  happened  to 
you  since  we  separated !  Weak  man,"  she  repeated 
with  dreadful  gaiety,  "  you've  been  squared !  " 

I  literally  blushed  for  her.     "  Squared?  " 

"  Does  it  inconveniently  happen  that  you  find 
you're  in  love  with  her  yourself?  " 

"  Well,"  I  replied  on  quick  reflection,  "  do,  if  you 
like;  call  it  that;  for  you  see  what  a  motive  it  gives 
me  for  being,  in  such  a  matter  as  this  wonderful 
one  that  you  and  I  happened  to  find  ourselves  for 
a  moment  making  so  free  with,  absolutely  sure 
about  her.  I  am  absolutely  sure.  There!  She 
won't  do.  And  for  your  postulate  that  she's  at  the 
present  moment  in  some  sequestered  spot  in  Long's 
company,  suffer  me  without  delay  to  correct  it. 

72 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

It  won't  hold  water.  If  you'll  go  into  the  library, 
through  which  I  have  just  passed,  you'll  find  her 
there  in  the  company  of  the  Comte  de  Dreuil." 

Mrs.  Briss  stared  again.  "  Already?  She  was, 
at  any  rate,  with  Mr.  Long,  and  she  told  me  on  my 
meeting  them  that  they  had  just  come  from  the 
pastels." 

"  Exactly.  They  met  there — she  and  I  having 
gone  together;  and  they  retired  together  under  my 
eyes.  They  must  have  parted,  clearly,  the  moment 
after." 

She  took  it  all  in,  turned  it  all  over.  "  Then 
what  does  that  prove  but  that  they're  afraid  to  be 
seen?" 

"  Ah,  they're  not  afraid,  since  both  you  and  I  saw 
them ! " 

"  Oh,  only  just  long  enough  for  them  to  publish 
themselves  as  not  avoiding  each  other.  All  the 
same,  you  know,"  she  said,  "  they  do." 

"  Do  avoid  each  other?  How  is  your  belief  in 
that,"  I  asked,  "  consistent  with  your  belief  that 
they  parade  together  in  the  park?  " 

"They  ignore  each  other  in  public;  they  fore- 
gather in  private." 

"  Ah,  but  they  don't — since,  as  I  tell  you,  she's 
even  while  we  talk  the  centre  of  the  mystic  circle  of 
the  twaddle  of  M.  de  Dreuil;  chained  to  a  stake  if 
you  can  be.  Besides,"  I  wound  up,  "  it's  not  only 
that  she's  not  the  '  right  fool ' — it's  simply  that  she's 

73 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

not  a  fool  at  all.  We  want  the  woman  who  has  been 
rendered  most  inane.  But  this  lady  hasn't  been 
rendered  so  in  any  degree.  She's  the  reverse  of  in- 
ane. She's  in  full  possession." 

"  In  full  possession  of  what?  " 

"  Why,  of  herself." 

"Like  Lady  John?" 

I  had  unfortunately  to  discriminate  here.  "  No, 
not  like  Lady  John." 

"  Like  whom  then?  " 

"  Like  anyone.  Like  me;  like  you;  like  Brissen- 
den.  Don't  I  satisfy  you?  "  I  asked  in  a  moment. 

She  only  looked  at  me  a  little,  handsome  and 
hard.  "  If  you  wished  to  satisfy  me  so  easily  you 
shouldn't  have  made  such  a  point  of  working  me  up. 
I  daresay  I,  after  all,  however,"  she  added,  "  notice 
more  things  than  you." 

"  As  for  instance?  " 

"  Well,  May  Server  last  evening.  I  was  not  quite 
conscious  at  the  time  that  I  did,  but  when  one  has 
had  the  *  tip '  one  looks  back  and  sees  things  in  a 
new  light." 

It  was  doubtless  because  my  friend  irritated  me 
more  and  more  that  I  met  this  with  a  sharpness  pos- 
sibly excessive.  "  She's  perfectly  natural.  What 
I  saw  was  a  test.  And  so  is  he." 

But  she  gave  me  no  heed.  "  If  there  hadn't 
been  so  many  people  I  should  have  noticed  of  my- 
self after  dinner  that  there  was  something  the  mat- 

74 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

ter  with  her.     I  should  have  seen  what  it  was.     She 
was  all  over  the  place." 

She  expressed  it  as  the  poor  lady's  other  critic 
had  done,  but  this  didn't  shut  my  mouth.  "  Ah, 
then,  in  spite  of  the  people,  you  did  notice.  What 
do  you  mean  by  '  all  over  the  place  '?  " 

"  She  couldn't  keep  still.  She  was  different  from 
the  woman  one  had  last  seen.  She  used  to  be  so 
calm — as  if  she  were  always  sitting  for  her  portrait. 
Wasn't  she  in  fact  always  being  painted  in  a  pink 
frock  and  one  row  of  pearls,  always  staring  out  at 
you  in  exhibitions,  as  if  she  were  saying  '  Here  they 
are  again  '?  Last  night  she  was  on  the  rush." 

"The  rush?     Oh!" 

"  Yes,  positively — from  one  man  to  another. 
She  was  on  the  pounce.  She  talked  to  ten  in  suc- 
cession, making  up  to  them  in  the  most  extraordi- 
nary way  and  leaving  them  still  more  crazily. 
She's  as  nervous  as  a  cat.  Put  it  to  any  man  here, 
and  see  if  he  doesn't  tell  you." 
•  "  I  should  think  it  quite  unpleasant  to  put  it  to 
any  man  here,"  I  returned;  "  and  I  should  have  been 
sure  you  would  have  thought  it  the  same.  I  spoke 
to  you  in  the  deepest  confidence." 

Mrs.  Brissenden's  look  at  me  was  for  a  moment 
of  the  least  accommodating;  then  it  changed  to  an 
intelligent  smile.  "  How  you  are  protecting  her ! 
But  don't  cry  out,"  she  added,  "  before  you're  hurt. 
Since  your  confidence  has  distinguished  me — 

75 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

though  I  don't  quite  see  why — you  may  be  sure  I 
haven't  breathed.  So  I  all  the  more  resent  your 
making  me  a  scene  on  the  extraordinary  ground 
that  I've  observed  as  well  as  yourself.  Perhaps 
what  you  don't  like  is  that  my  observation  may  be 
turned  on  you.  I  confess  it  is." 

It  was  difficult  to  bear  being  put  in  the  wrong 
by  her,  but  I  made  an  effort  that  I  believe  was  not 
unsuccessful  to  recover  my  good  humour.  "  It's 
not  in  the  least  to  your  observation  that  I  object, 
it's  to  the  extravagant  inferences  you  draw  from  it. 
Of  course,  however,  I  admit  I  always  want  to  pro- 
tect the  innocent.  What  does  she  gain,  on  your 
theory,  by  her  rushing  and  pouncing?  Had  she 
pounced  on  Brissenden  when  we  met  him  with  her? 
Are  you  so  very  sure  he  hadn't  pounced  on  her? 
They  had,  at  all  events,  to  me,  quite  the  air  of  people 
settled;  she  was  not,  it  was  clear,  at  that  moment 
meditating  a  change.  It  was  we,  if  you  remember, 
who  had  absolutely  to  pull  them  apart." 

"  Is  it  your  idea  to  make  out,"  Mrs.  Brissenden 
inquired  in  answer  to  this,  "  that  she  has  suddenly 
had  the  happy  thought  of  a  passion  for  my  hus- 
band? " 

A  new  possibility,  as  she  spoke,  came  to  me  with 
a  whirr  of  wings,  and  I  half  expressed  it.  "  She 
may  have  a  sympathy." 

My  interlocutress  gazed  at  space.  "  You  mean 
she  may  be  sorry  for  him?  On  what  ground?  " 

76 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  had  gone  too  far  indeed;  but  I  got  off  as  I  could. 
"  You  neglect  him  so !  But  what  is  she,  at  any 
rate,"  I  went  on,  "  nervous — as  nervous  as  you  de- 
scribe her — about?  " 

"  About  her  danger;  the  contingency  of  its  being 
fixed  upon  them — an  intimacy  so  thoroughgoing 
that  they  can  scarcely  afford  to  let  it  be  seen  even 
as  a  mere  acquaintance.  Think  of  the  circum- 
stances— her  personal  ones,  I  mean,  and  admit  that 
it  wouldn't  do.  It  would  be  too  bad  a  case. 
There's  everything  to  make  it  so.  They  must  live 
on  pins  and  needles.  Anything  proved  would  go 
tremendously  hard  for  her." 

"  In  spite  of  which  you're  surprised  that  I  '  pro- 
tect'her?" 

It  was  a  question,  however,  that  my  companion 
could  meet.  "  From  people  in  general,  no.  From 
me  in  particular,  yes." 

In  justice  to  Mrs.  Brissenden  I  thought  a  mo- 
ment. "  Well,  then,  let  us  be  fair  all  round.  That 
you  don't,  as  you  say,  breathe  is  a  discretion  I  ap- 
preciate; all  the  more  that  a  little  inquiry,  tactfully 
pursued,  would  enable  you  to  judge  whether  any 
independent  suspicion  does  attach.  A  little  loose 
collateral  evidence  might-  be  picked  up;  and  your 
scorning  to  handle  it  is  no  more  than  I  should,  after 
all,  have  expected  of  you." 

"  Thank  you  for  *  after  all ' !  "  My  companion 
tossed  her  head.  "  I  know  for  myself  what  I  scorn 

77 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

to  handle.  Quite  apart  from  that  there's  another 
matter.  You  must  have  noticed  yourself  that  when 
people  are  so  much  liked " 

"  There's  a  kind  of  general,  amiable  consensus  of 
blindness?  Yes — one  can  think  of  cases.  Popu- 
larity shelters  and  hallows — has  the  effect  of  mak- 
ing a  good-natured  world  agree  not  to  see." 

My  friend  seemed  pleased  that  I  so  sufficiently 
understood.  "  This  evidently  has  been  a  case  then 
in  which  it  has  not  only  agreed  not  to  see,  but 
agreed  not  even  to  look.  It  has  agreed  in  fact  to 
look  straight  the  other  way.  They  say  there's  no 
smoke  without  fire,  but  it  appears  there  may  be  fire 
without  smoke.  I'm  satisfied,  at  all  events,  that 
one  wouldn't  in  connection  with  these  two  find  the 
least  little  puff.  Isn't  that  just  what  makes  the 
magnificence  of  their  success — the  success  that  re- 
duces us  to  playing  over  them  with  mere  moon- 
shine? "  She  thought  of  it;  seemed  fairly  to  envy 
it.  "  I've  never  seen  such  luck !  " 

"  A  rare  case  of  the  beauty  of  impunity  as  impu- 
nity? "  I  laughed.  "  Such  a  case  puts  a  price  on 
passions  otherwise  to  be  deprecated?  I'm  glad  in- 
deed you  admit  we're  '  reduced.'  We  are  reduced. 
But  what  I  meant  to  say  just  now  was  that  if  you'll 
continue  to  join  in  the  genial  conspiracy  while  I  do 
the  same — each  of  us  making  an  exception  only 
for  the  other — I'll  pledge  myself  absolutely  to  the 
straight  course.  If  before  we  separate  I've  seen 

78 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

reason  to  change  my  mind,  I'll  loyally  let  you 
know." 

"  What  good  will  that  do  me,"  she  asked,  "  if  you 
don't  change  your  mind?  You  won't  change  it  if 
you  shut  your  eyes  to  her." 

"  Ah,  I  feel  I  can't  do  that  now.  I  am  interested. 
The  proof  of  that  is,"  I  pursued,  "  that  I  appeal  to 
you  for  another  impression  of  your  own.  I  still 
don't  see  the  logic  of  her  general  importunity." 

"  The  logic  is  simply  that  she  has  a  terror  of  ap- 
pearing to  encourage  anyone  in  particular." 

"  Why  then  isn't  it  in  her  own  interest,  for  the 
sake  of  the  screen,  just  to  do  that?  The  appearance 
of  someone  in  particular  would  be  exactly  the  oppo- 
site of  the  appearance  of  Long.  Your  own  admis- 
sion is  that  that's  his  line  with  Lady  John." 

Mrs.  Brissenden  took  her  view.  "  Oh,  she 
doesn't  want  to  do  anything  so  like  the  real  thing. 
And,  as  for  what  he  does,  they  don't  feel  in  the  same 
way.  He's  not  nervous." 

"  Then  why  does  he  go  in  for  a  screen?  " 

"  I  mean  " — she  readily  modified  it — "  that  he's 
not  so  nervous  as  May.  He  hasn't  the  same  rea- 
sons for  panic.  A  man  never  has.  Besides,  there's 
not  so  much  in  Mr.  Long  to  show " 

"  What,  by  my  notion,  has  taken  place?  Why 
not,  if  it  was  precisely  by  the  change  in  him  that  my 
notion  was  inspired?  Any  change  in  her  I  know 
comparatively  little  about." 

79 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

We  hovered  so  near  the  case  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Brissenden  that  it  positively  excited  me,  and  all  the 
more  for  her  sustained  unconsciousness.  "  Oh,  the 
man's  not  aware  of  his  own  change.  He  doesn't 
see  it  as  we  do.  It's  all  to  his  advantage." 

"  But  we  see  it  to  his  advantage.  How  should 
that  prevent?" 

"  We  see  it  to  the  advantage  of  his  mind  and  his 
talk,  but  not  to  that  of " 

"  Well,  what?  "  I  pressed  as  she  pulled  up. 

She  was  thinking  how  to  name  such  mysteries. 
"  His  delicacy.  His  consideration.  His  thought 
for  her.  He  would  think  for  her  if  he  weren't  selfish. 
But  he  is  selfish — too  much  so  to  spare  her,  to  be 
generous,  to  realise.  It's  only,  after  all,"  she  sagely 
went  on,  feeding  me  again,  as  I  winced  to  feel,  with 
profundity  of  my  own  sort,  "  it's  only  an  excessive 
case,  a  case  that  in  him  happens  to  show  as  what  the 
doctors  call  '  fine,'  of  what  goes  on  whenever  two 
persons  are  so  much  mixed  up.  One  of  them  always 
gets  more  out  of  it  than  the  other.  One  of  them — 
you  know  the  saying — gives  the  lips,  the  other  gives 
the  cheek." 

"  It's  the  deepest  of  all  truths.  Yet  the  cheek 
profits  too,"  I  more  prudently  argued. 

"  It  profits  most.  It  takes  and  keeps  and  uses  all 
the  lips  give.  The  cheek,  accordingly,"  she  con- 
tinued to  point  out,  "  is  Mr.  Long's.  The  lips  are 
what  we  began  by  looking  for.  We've  found  them. 

80 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

They're  drained — they're  dry,  the  lips.  Mr.  Long 
finds  his  improvement  natural  and  beautiful.  He 
revels  in  it.  He  takes  it  for  granted.  He's  sub- 
lime." 

It  kept  me  for  a  minute  staring  at  her.  "  So — 
do  you  know? — are  you!  " 

She  received  this  wholly  as  a  tribute  to  her  acute- 
ness,  and  was  therefore  proportionately  gracious. 
"  That's  only  because  it's  catching.  You've  made 
me  sublime.  You  found  me  dense.  You've  affect- 
ed me  quite  as  Mrs.  Server  has  affected  Mr.  Long. 
I  don't  pretend  I  show  it,"  she  added,  "  quite  as 
much  as  he  does." 

"  Because  that  would  entail  my  showing  it  as 
much  as,  by  your  contention,  she  does?  Well,  I 
confess,"  I  declared,  "  I  do  feel  remarkably  like  that 
pair  of  lips.  I  feel  drained — I  feel  dry !  "  Her  an- 
swer to  this,  with  another  toss  of  her  head,  was  ex- 
travagant enough  to  mean  forgiveness — was  that  I 
was  impertinent,  and  her  action  in  support  of  her 
charge  was  to  move  away  from  me,  taking  her 
course  again  to  the  terrace,  easily  accessible  from 
the  room  in  which  we  had  been  talking.  She  passed 
out  of  the  window  that  opened  to  the  ground,  and 
I  watched  her  while,  in  the  brighter  light,  she  put  up 
her  pink  parasol.  She  walked  a  few  paces,  as  if  to 
look  about  her  for  a  change  of  company,  and  by  this 
time  had  reached  a  flight  of  steps  that  descended 
to  a  lower  level.  On  observing  that  here,  in  the  act 

81 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

to  go  down,  she  suddenly  paused,  I  knew  she  had 
been  checked  by  something  seen  below  and  that  this 
was  what  made  her  turn  the  next  moment  to  give 
me  a  look.  I  took  it  as  an  invitation  to  rejoin  her, 
and  I  perceived  when  I  had  done  so  what  had  led 
her  to  appeal  to  me.  We  commanded  from  the 
point  in  question  one  of  the  shady  slopes  of  the 
park  and  in  particular  a  spreading  beech,  the  trunk 
of  which  had  been  inclosed  with  a  rustic  circular 
bench,  a  convenience  that  appeared  to  have  offered, 
for  the  moment,  a  sense  of  leafy  luxury  to  a  lady 
in  pale  blue.  She  leaned  back,  her  figure  presented 
in  profile  and  her  head  a  little  averted  as  if  for  talk 
with  some  one  on  the  other  side  of  her,  someone  so 
placed  as  to  be  lost  to  our  view. 

"  There !  "  triumphed  Mrs.  Brissenden  again — 
for  the  lady  was  unmistakably  Mrs.  Server.  Amuse- 
ment was  inevitable — the  fact  showed  her  as  so  cor- 
rectly described  by  the  words  to  which  I  had  twice 
had  to  listen.  She  seemed  really  all  over  the  place. 
"  I  thought  you  said,"  my  companion  remarked, 
"  that  you  had  left  her  tucked  away  somewhere  with 
M.  de  Dreuil." 

"  Well,"  I  returned  after  consideration,  "  that  is 
obviously  M.  de  Dreuil." 

"Are  you  so  sure?  I  don't  make  out  the  per- 
son," my  friend  continued — "  I  only  see  she's  not 
alone.  I  understood  you  moreover  that  you  had 
lately  left  them  in  the  house." 

82 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"  They  were  in  the  house,  but  there  was  nothing 
to  keep  them  from  coming  out.  They've  had 
plenty  of  time  while  we've  talked;  they  must  have 
passed  down  by  some  of  the  other  steps.  Perhaps 
also,"  I  added,  "  it's  another  man." 

But  by  this  time  she  was  satisfied.     "  It's  he!  " 

"Gilbert  Long?  I  thought  you  just  said,"  I 
observed,  "  that  you  can  make  nobody  out." 

We  watched  together,  but  the  distance  was  con- 
siderable, and  the  second  figure  continued  to  be 
screened.  "  It  must  be  he,"  Mrs.  Brissenden  re- 
sumed with  impatience,  "  since  it  was  with  him  I 
so  distinctly  saw  her." 

"  Let  me  once  more  hold  you  to  the  fact,"  I  an- 
swered, "  that  she  had,  to  my  knowledge,  suc- 
cumbed to  M.  de  Dreuil  afterwards.  The  moments 
have  fled,  you  see,  in  our  fascinating  discussion, 
and  various  things,  on  your  theory  of  her  pounce, 
have  come  and  gone.  Don't  I  moreover  make  out 
a  brown  shoe,  in  a  white  gaiter,  protruding  from  the 
other  side  of  her  dress?  It  must  be  Lord  Lutley." 

Mrs.  Brissenden  looked  and  mused.  "  A  brown 
shoe  in  a  white  gaiter?  "  At  this  moment  Mrs. 
Server  moved,  and  the  next — as  if  it  were  time  for 
another  pounce — she  had  got  up.  We  could,  how- 
ever, still  distinguish  but  a  shoulder  and  an  out- 
stretched leg  of  her  gentleman,  who,  on  her  move- 
ment, appeared,  as  in  protest,  to  have  affirmed  by 
an  emphatic  shift  of  his  seat  his  preference  for  their 

83 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

remaining  as  they  were.  This  carried  him  further 
round  the  tree.  We  thus  lost  him,  but  she  stood 
there  while  we  waited,  evidently  exhorting  him; 
after  a  minute  of  which  she  came  away  as  in  confi- 
dence that  he  would  follow.  During  this  process, 
with  a  face  more  visible,  she  had  looked  as  charming 
as  a  pretty  woman  almost  always  does  in  rising  elo- 
quent before  the  apathetic  male.  She  hadn't  yet 
noticed  us,  but  something  in  her  attitude  and  man- 
ner particularly  spoke  to  me.  There  were  implica- 
tions in  it  to  which  I  couldn't  be  blind,  and  I  felt 
how  my  neighbour  also  would  have  caught  them 
and  been  confirmed  in  her  certitude.  In  fact  I  felt 
the  breath  of  her  confirmation  in  another  elated 
"  There !  " — in  a  "  Look  at  her  now!  "  Incontest- 
ably,  while  not  yet  aware  of  us,  Mrs.  Server  con- 
fessed with  every  turn  of  her  head  to  a  part  in  a  rela- 
tion. It  stuck  out  of  her,  her  part  in  a  relation;  it 
hung  before  us,  her  part  in  a  relation;  it  was  large  to 
us  beyond  the  breadth  of  the  glade.  And  since,  off 
her  guard,  she  so  let  us  have  it,  with  whom  in  the 
world  could  the  relation — so  much  of  one  as  that — 
be  but  with  Gilbert  Long?  The  question  was  not 
settled  till  she  had  come  on  some  distance;  then  the 
producer  of  our  tension,  emerging  and  coming  after 
her,  offered  himself  to  our  united,  to  our  confound- 
ed, anxiety  once  more  as  poor  Briss. 

That  we  should  have  been  confounded  was  doubt- 
less but  a  proof  of  the  impression — the  singular 

84 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

assurance  of  intimacy  borne  toward  us  on  the  soft 
summer  air — that  we  had,  however  delusively,  re- 
ceived. I  should  myself  have  been  as  ready  as  my 
neighbour  to  say  "  Whoever  he  is,  they're  in  deep !  " 
— and  on  grounds,  moreover,  quite  as  recklessly, 
as  fantastically  constructive  as  hers.  There  was 
nothing  to  explain  our  impression  but  the  fact  of 
our  already  having  seen  them  figure  together,  and 
of  this  we  needed  breathing-time  to  give  them  the 
natural  benefit.  It  was  not  indeed  as  an  absolute 
benefit  for  either  that  Grace  Brissenden's  tone 
marked  our  recognition.  "  Dear  Guy  again  ?  " — 
but  she  had  recovered  herself  enough  to  laugh.  "  I 
should  have  thought  he  had  had  more  than  his 
turn !  "  She  had  recovered  herself  in  fact  much 
more  than  I;  for  somehow,  from  this  instant,  con- 
vinced as  she  had  been  and  turning  everything  to 
her  conviction,  I  found  myself  dealing,  in  thought, 
with  still  larger  material.  It  was  odd  what  a  differ- 
ence was  made  for  me  by  the  renewed  sight  of  dear 
Guy.  I  didn't  of  course  analyse  this  sense  at  the 
time;  that  was  still  to  come.  Our  friends  mean- 
while had  noticed  us,  and  something  clearly  passed 
between  them — it  almost  produced,  for  an  instant, 
a  visible  arrest  in  their  advance — on  the  question  of 
their  having  perhaps  been  for  some  time  exposed. 

They  came  on,  however,  and  I  waved  them  from 
afar  a  greeting,  to  which  Mrs.  Server  alone  replied. 
Distances  were  great  at  Newmarch  and  landscape- 

85 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

gardening  on  the  grand  scale;  it  would  take  them 
still  some  minutes  to  reach  our  place  of  vantage  or 
to  arrive  within  sound  of  speech.  There  was  ac- 
cordingly nothing  marked  in  our  turning  away  and 
strolling  back  to  the  house.  We  had  been  so  in- 
tent that  we  confessed  by  this  movement  to  a  quick 
impulse  to  disown  it.  Yet  it  was  remarkable  that, 
before  we  went  in,  Mrs.  Brissenden  should  have 
struck  me  afresh  as  having  got  all  she  wanted.  Her 
recovery  from  our  surprise  was  already  so  complete 
that  her  high  lucidity  now  alone  reigned.  "  You 
don't  require,  I  suppose,  anything  more  than  that?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  quite  see,  I'm  bound  to  say,  just 
where  even  '  that '  comes  in."  It  incommoded  me 
singularly  little,  at  the  point  to  which  I  had  jumped, 
that  this  statement  was  the  exact  reverse  of  the 
truth.  Where  it  came  in  was  what  I  happened  to 
be  in  the  very  act  of  seeing — seeing  to  the  exclusion 
of  almost  everything  else.  It  was  sufficient  that  I 
might  perhaps  feel  myself  to  have  done  at  last  with 
Mrs.  Brissenden.  I  desired,  at  all  events,  quite  as 
if  this  benefit  were  assured  me,  to  leave  her  the 
honours  of  the  last  word. 

She  was  finely  enough  prepared  to  take  them. 

"  Why,  this  invention  of  using  my  husband !  " 

She  fairly  gasped  at  having  to  explain. 

"Of  'using  'him?" 

"  Trailing  him  across  the  scent  as  she  does  all  of 
you,  one  after  the  other.  Excuse  my  comparing 

86 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

you  to  so  many  red  herrings.  You  each  have  your 
turn;  only  his  seems  repeated,  poor  dear,  till  he's 
quite  worn  out  with  it." 

I  kept  for  a  little  this  image  in  my  eye.  "  I  can 
see  of  course  that  his  whole  situation  must  be  some- 
thing of  a  strain  for  him;  for  I've  not  forgotten  what 
you  told  me  yesterday  of  his  service  with  Lady  John. 
To  have  to  work  in  such  a  way  for  two  of  them  at 
once  " — it  couldn't  help,  I  admitted,  being  a  tax  on 
a  fellow.  Besides,  when  one  came  to  think  of  it, 
the  same  man  couldn't  be  two  red  herrings.  To 
show  as  Mrs.  Server's  would  directly  impair  his 
power  to  show  as  Lady  John's.  It  would  seem,  in 
short,  a  matter  for  his  patronesses  to  have  out 
together. 

Mrs.  Brissenden  betrayed,  on  this,  some  annoy- 
ance at  my  levity.  "  Oh,  the  cases  are  not  the  same, 
for  with  Lady  John  it  amuses  him:  he  thinks  he 
knows." 

"Knows  what?" 

"  What  she  wants  him  for.  He  doesn't  know  " — 
she  kept  it  wonderfully  clear — "  that  she  really 
doesn't  want  him  for  anything;  for  anything  except, 
of  course  " — this  came  as  a  droll  second  thought — 
"  himself." 

"  And  he  doesn't  know,  either  " — I  tried  to  re- 
main at  her  level — "  that  Mrs.  Server  does." 

"  No,"  she  assented,  "  he  doesn't  know  what  it's 
her  idea  to  do  with  him." 

87 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

"  He  doesn't  know,  in  fine,"  I  cheerfully  pursued, 
"  the  truth  about  anything.  And  of  course,  by  your 
agreement  with  me,  he's  not  to  learn  it." 

She  recognised  her  agreement  with  me,  yet 
looked  as  if  she  had  reserved  a  certain  measure  of 
freedom.  Then  she  handsomely  gave  up  even  that. 
"  I  certainly  don't  want  him  to  become  conscious." 

"  It's  his  unconsciousness,"  I  declared,  "  that 
saves  him." 

"  Yes,  even  from  himself." 

"  We  must  accordingly  feed  it."  In  the  house, 
with  intention,  we  parted  company;  but  there  was 
something  that,  before  this,  I  felt  it  due  to  my  claim 
of  consistency  to  bring  out.  "  It  wasn't,  at  all 
events,  Gilbert  Long  behind  the  tree !  " 

My  triumph,  however,  beneath  the  sponge  she 
was  prepared  to  pass  again  over  much  of  our  ex- 
perience, was  short-lived.  "  Of  course  it  wasn't. 
We  shouldn't  have  been  treated  to  the  scene  if  it  had 
been.  What  could  she  possibly  have  put  poor  Briss 
there  for  but  just  to  show  it  wasn't?  " 


88 


VI 


I  SAW  other  things,  many  things,  after  this,  but 
I  had  already  so  much  matter  for  reflection  that 
I  saw  them  almost  in  spite  of  myself.  The  difficulty 
with  me  was  in  the  momentum  already  acquired  by 
the  act — as  well  as,  doubtless,  by  the  general  habit — 
of  observation.  I  remember  indeed  that  on  sepa- 
rating from  Mrs.  Brissenden  I  took  a  lively  resolve 
to  get  rid  of  my  ridiculous  obsession.  It  was  absurd 
to  have  consented  to  such  immersion,  intellectually 
speaking,  in  the  affairs  of  other  people.  One  had 
always  affairs  of  one's  own,  and  I  was  positively 
neglecting  mine.  Such,  for  a  while,  was  my  fore- 
most reflection ;  after  which,  in  their  order  or  out  of 
it,  came  an  inevitable  train  of  others.  One  of  the 
first  of  these  was  that,  frankly,  my  affairs  were  by 
this  time  pretty  well  used  to  my  neglect.  There 
were  connections  enough  in  which  it  had  never 
failed.  A  whole  cluster  of  such  connections,  effect- 
ually displacing  the  centre  of  interest,  now  sur- 
rounded me,  and  I  was — though  always  but  intel- 
lectually— drawn  into  their  circle.  I  did  my  best 
for  the  rest  of  the  day  to  turn  my  back  on  them,  but 
with  the  prompt  result  of  feeling  that  I  meddled  with 

89 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

them  almost  more  in  thinking  them  over  in  isolation 
than  in  hovering  personally  about  them.  Reflec- 
tion was  the  real  intensity;  reflection,  as  to  poor  Mrs. 
Server  in  particular,  was  an  indiscreet  opening  of 
doors.  She  became  vivid  in  the  light  of  the  so 
limited  vision  of  her  that  I  already  possessed — try 
positively  as  I  would  not  further  to  extend  it.  It 
was  something  not  to  ask  another  question,  to  keep 
constantly  away  both  from  Mrs.  Brissenden  and 
from  Ford  Obert,  whom  I  had  rashly  invited  to  a 
degree  of  participation;  it  was  something  to  talk  as 
hard  as  possible  with  other  persons  and  on  other 
subjects,  to  mingle  in  groups  much  more  superficial 
than  they  supposed  themselves,  to  give  ear  to 
broader  jokes,  to  discuss  more  tangible  mysteries. 

The  day,  as  it  developed,  was  large  and  hot,  an  un- 
stinted splendour  of  summer;  excursions,  exercise, 
organised  amusement  were  things  admirably  spared 
us;  life  became  a  mere  arrested  ramble  or  stimulated 
lounge,  and  we  profited  to  the  full  by  the  noble 
freedom  of  Newmarch,  that  overarching  ease  which 
in  nothing  was  so  marked  as  in  the  tolerance  of  talk. 
The  air  of  the  place  itself,  in  such  conditions,  left 
one's  powers  with  a  sense  of  play;  if  one  wanted 
something  to  play  at  one  simply  played  at  being 
there.  I  did  this  myself,  with  the  aid,  in  especial, 
of  two  or  three  solitary  strolls,  unaccompanied  dips, 
of  half  an  hour  a-piece,  into  outlying  parts  of  the 
house  and  the  grounds.  I  must  add  that  while  I 

90 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

resorted  to  such  measures  not  to  see  I  only  fixed 
what  I  had  seen,  what  I  did  see,  the  more  in  my 
mind.  One  of  these  things  had  been  the  way  that, 
at  luncheon,  Gilbert  Long,  watching  the  chance 
given  him  by  the  loose  order  in  which  we  moved  to 
it,  slipped,  to  the  visible  defeat  of  somebody  else, 
into  the  chair  of  conspicuity  beside  clever  Lady 
John.  A  second  was  that  Mrs.  Server  then  occu- 
pied a  place  as  remote  as  possible  from  this  couple, 
but  not  from  Guy  Brissenden,  who  had  found  means 
to  seat  himself  next  her  while  my  notice  was  en- 
gaged by  the  others.  What  I  was  at  the  same  time 
supremely  struck  with  could  doubtless  only  be  Mrs. 
Server's  bright  ubiquity,  as  it  had  at  last  come  to 
seem  to  me,  and  that  of  the  companions  she  had 
recruited  for  the  occasion.  Attended  constantly  by 
a  different  gentleman,  she  was  in  the  range  of  my 
vision  wherever  I  turned — she  kept  repeating  her 
picture  in  settings  separated  by  such  intervals  that 
I  wondered  at  the  celerity  with  which  she  proceeded 
from  spot  to  spot.  She  was  never  discernibly  out 
of  breath,  though  the  associate  of  her  ecstasy  at  the 
given  moment  might  have  been  taken  as  being;  and 
I  kept  getting  afresh  the  impression  which,  the  day 
before,  had  so  promptly  followed  my  arrival,  the  odd 
impression,  as  of  something  the  matter  with  each 
party,  that  I  had  gathered,  in  the  grounds,  from  the 
sight  of  her  advance  upon  me  with  Obert.  I  had  by 
this  time  of  course  made  out — and  it  was  absurd  to 

91 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

shut  my  eyes  to  it — what  that  particular  something, 
at  least,  was.  It  was  that  Obert  had  quickly  per- 
ceived something  to  be  the  matter  with  her,  and  that 
she,  on  her  side,  had  become  aware  of  his  discovery. 
I  wondered  hereupon  if  the  discovery  were  in- 
evitable for  each  gentleman  in  succession,  and  if 
this  were  their  reason  for  changing  so  often.  Did 
everyone  leave  her,  like  Obert,  with  an  uneasy  im- 
pression of  her,  and  were  these  impressions  now 
passed  about  with  private  hilarity  or  profundity, 
though  without  having  reached  me  save  from  the 
source  I  have  named?  I  affected  myself  as  con- 
stantly catching  her  eye,  as  if  she  wished  to  call 
my  attention  to  the  fact  of  who  was  with  her  and 
who  was  not.  I  had  kept  my  distance  since  our 
episode  with  the  pastels,  and  yet  nothing  could  more 
come  home  to  me  than  that  I  had  really  not,  since 
then,  been  absent  from  her.  We  met  without  talk, 
but  not,  thanks  to  these  pointed  looks,  without  con- 
tact. I  daresay  that,  for  that  matter,  my  cogita- 
tions— for  I  must  have  bristled  with  them — would 
have  made  me  as  stiff  a  puzzle  to  interpretative 
minds  as  I  had  suffered  other  phenomena  to  become 
to  my  own.  I  daresay  I  wandered  with  a  tell-tale 
restlessness  of  which  the  practical  detachment 
might  well  have  mystified  those  who  hadn't  sus- 
picions. Whenever  I  caught  Mrs.  Server's  eye  it 
was  really  to  wonder  how  many  suspicions  she  had. 
I  came  upon  her  in  great  dim  chambers,  and  I  came 

92 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

upon  her  before  sweeps  of  view.  I  came  upon  her 
once  more  with  the  Comte  de  Dreuil,  with  Lord 
Lutley,  with  Ford  Obert,  with  almost  every  other 
man  in  the  house,  and  with  several  of  these,  as  if 
there  had  not  been  enough  for  so  many  turns,  two 
or  three  times  over.  Only  at  no  moment,  whatever 
the  favouring  frame,  did  I  come  upon  her  with  Gil- 
bert Long.  It  was  of  course  an  anomaly  that,  as  an 
easy  accident,  I  was  not  again  myself  set  in  the 
favouring  frame.  That  I  consistently  escaped  be- 
ing might  indeed  have  been  the  meaning  most 
marked  in  our  mute  recognitions. 

Discretion,  then,  I  finally  felt,  played  an  odd  part 
when  it  simply  left  one  more  attached,  morally,  to 
one's  prey.  What  was  most  evident  to  me  by  five 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  was  that  I  was  too  pre- 
occupied not  to  find  it  the  best  wisdom  to  accept 
my  mood.  It  was  all  very  well  to  run  away;  there 
would  be  no  effectual  running  away  but  to  have 
my  things  quickly  packed  and  catch,  if  possible,  a 
train  for  town.  On  the  spot  I  had  to  be  on  it;  and 
it  began  to  dawn  before  me  that  there  was  some- 
thing quite  other  I  possibly  might  do  with  Mrs.  Ser- 
ver than  endeavour  ineffectually  to  forget  her. 
What  was  none  of  one's  business  might  change  its 
name  should  importunity  take  the  form  of  utility. 
In  resisted  observation  that  was  vivid  thought,  in 
inevitable  thought  that  was  vivid  observation, 
through  a  succession,  in  short,  of  phases  in  which  I 

93 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

shall  not  pretend  to  distinguish  one  of  these  ele- 
ments from  the  other,  I  found  myself  cherishing 
the  fruit  of  the  seed  dropped  equally  by  Ford  Obert 
and  by  Mrs.  Briss.  What  was  the  matter  with  me? 
— so  much  as  that  I  had  ended  by  asking  myself; 
and  the  answer  had  come  as  an  unmistakable  return 
of  the  anxiety  produced  in  me  by  my  first  seeing 
that  I  had  fairly  let  Grace  Brissenden  loose.  My 
original  protest  against  the  flash  of  inspiration  in 
which  she  had  fixed  responsibility  on  Mrs.  Server 
had  been  in  fact,  I  now  saw,  but  the  scared  presenti- 
ment of  something  in  .store  for  myself.  This  scare, 
to  express  it  sharply,  had  verily  not  left  me  from 
that  moment;  and  if  I  had  been  already  then  anxious 
it  was  because  I  had  felt  myself  foredoomed  to  be 
sure  the  poor  lady  herself  would  be.  Why  I  should 
have  minded  this,  should  have  been  anxious  at  her 
anxiety  and  scared  at  her  scare,  was  a  question 
troubling  me  too  little  on  the  spot  for  me  to  suffer 
it  to  trouble  me,  as  a  painter  of  my  state,  in  this 
place.  It  is  sufficient  that  when  so  much  of  the 
afternoon  had  waned  as  to  bring  signs  of  the  service 
of  tea  in  the  open  air,  I  knew  how  far  I  was  gone 
in  pity  for  her.  For  I  had  at  last  had  to  take  in 
what  my  two  interlocutors  had  given  me.  Their 
impression,  coinciding  and,  as  one  might  say,  dis- 
interested, couldn't,  after  a  little,  fail  in  some  degree 
to  impose  itself.  It  had  its  value.  Mrs.  Server  was 


"  nervous.3 


94 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

It  little  mattered  to  me  now  that  Mrs.  Briss  had 
put  it  to  me — that  I  had  even  whimsically  put  it 
to  myself — that  I  was  perhaps  in  love  with  her. 
That  was  as  good  a  name  as  another  for  an  interest 
springing  up  in  an  hour,  and  was  moreover  a  decent 
working  hypothesis.  The  sentiment  had  not  in- 
deed asserted  itself  at  "  first  sight,"  though  it  might 
have  taken  its  place  remarkably  well  among  the 
phenomena  of  what  is  known  as  second.  The  real 
fact  was,  none  the  less,  that  I  was  quite  too  sorry  for 
her  to  be  anything  except  sorry.  This  odd  feeling 
was  something  that  I  may  as  well  say  I  shall  not 
even  now  attempt  to  account  for — partly,  it  is  true, 
because  my  recital  of  the  rest  of  what  I  was  to  see 
in  no  small  measure  does  so.  It  was  a  force  that  I 
at  this  stage  simply  found  I  had  already  succumbed 
to.  If  it  was  not  the  result  of  what  I  had  granted 
to  myself  was  the  matter  with  her,  then  it  was  rather 
the  very  cause  of  my  making  that  concession.  It 
was  a  different  thing  from  my  first  prompt  impulse 
to  shield  her.  I  had  already  shielded  her — fought 
for  her  so  far  as  I  could  or  as  the  case  immediately 
required.  My  own  sense  of  how  I  was  affected  had 
practically  cleared  up,  in  short,  in  the  presence  of 
this  deeper  vision  of  her.  My  divinations  and  in- 
ductions had  finally  brought  home  to  me  that  in  the 
whole  huge,  brilliant,  crowded  place  I  was  the  only 
person  save  one  who  was  in  anything  that  could  be 
called  a  relation  to  her.  The  other  person's  relation 

95 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

was  concealed,  and  mine,  so  far  as  she  herself  was 
concerned,  was  unexpressed — so  that  I  suppose 
what  most,  at  the  juncture  in  question,  stirred  within 
me  was  the  wonder  of  how  I  might  successfully  ex- 
press it.  I  felt  that  so  long  as  I  didn't  express  it 
I  should  be  haunted  with  the  idea  of  something  in- 
finitely touching  and  tragic  in  her  loneliness — pos- 
sibly in  her  torment,  in  her  terror.  If  she  was 
"  nervous  "  to  the  tune  I  had  come  to  recognise, 
it  could  only  be  because  she  had  grounds.  And 
what  might  her  grounds  more  naturally  be  than 
that,  arranged  and  arrayed,  disguised  and  decorated, 
pursuing  in  vain,  through  our  careless  company, 
her  search  for  the  right  shade  of  apparent  security, 
she  felt  herself  none  the  less  all  the  while  the  restless 
victim  of  fear  and  failure? 

Once  my  imagination  had  seen  her  in  this  light 
the  touches  it  could  add  to  the  picture  might  be 
trusted  to  be  telling.  Further  observation  was  to 
convince  me  of  their  truth,  but  while  I  waited  for  it 
with  my  apprehension  that  it  would  come  in  spite 
of  me  I  easily  multiplied  and  lavished  them.  I 
made  out  above  all  what  she  would  most  be  trying 
to  hide.  It  was  not,  so  to  speak,  the  guarded  pri- 
mary fact — it  could  only  be,  wretched  woman,  that 
produced,  that  disastrous,  treacherous  consequence 
of  the  fact  which  her  faculties  would  exhibit,  and 
most  of  all  the  snapped  cord  of  her  faculty  of  talk. 
Guy  Brissenden  had,  at  the  worst,  his  compromised 

96 


THE    SACRED   FOUNT 

face  and  figure  to  show  and  to  shroud — if  he  were 
really,  that  is,  as  much  aware  of  them  as  one  had 
suspected.  She  had  her  whole  compromised  ma- 
chinery of  thought  and  speech,  and  if  these  signs 
were  not,  like  his,  external,  that  made  her  case  but 
the  harder,  for  she  had  to  create,  with  intelligence 
rapidly  ebbing,  with  wit  half  gone,  the  illusion  of 
an  unimpaired  estate.  She  was  like  some  unhappy 
lady  robbed  of  her  best  jewels — obliged  so  to  dis- 
pose and  distribute  the  minor  trinkets  that  had  es- 
caped as  still  to  give  the  impression  of  a  rich  ecrin. 
Was  not  that  embarrassment,  if  one  analysed  a  little, 
at  the  bottom  of  her  having  been  all  day,  in  the 
vulgar  phrase  and  as  the  three  of  us  had  too  cruelly 
noted,  all  over  the  place?  Was  indeed,  for  that 
matter,  this  observation  confined  to  us,  or  had  it 
at  last  been  irrepressibly  determined  on  the  part  of 
the  company  at  large?  This  was  a  question,  I 
hasten  to  add,  that  I  would  not  now  for  the  world 
have  put  to  the  test.  I  felt  I  should  have  known 
how  to  escape  had  any  rumour  of  wonder  at  Mrs. 
Server's  ways  been  finally  conveyed  to  me.  I  might 
from  this  moment  have,  as  much  as  I  liked,  my  own 
sense  of  it,  but  I  was  definitely  conscious  of  a  sort 
of  loyalty  to  her  that  would  have  rendered  me  blank 
before  others :  though  not  indeed  that — oh,  at  last, 
quite  the  contrary ! — it  would  have  forbidden  me  to 
watch  and  watch.  I  positively  dreaded  the  acci- 
dent of  my  being  asked  by  one  of  the  men  if  I  knew 

97 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

how  everyone  was  talking  about  her.  If  everyone 
was  talking  about  her,  I  wanted  positively  not  to 
know.  But  nobody  was,  probably — they  scarcely 
could  be  as  yet.  Without  suggestive  collateral  evi- 
dence there  would  be  nobody  in  the  house  so  con- 
scientiously infernal  as  Mrs.  Brissenden,  Obert 
and  I. 

Newmarch  had  always,  in  our  time,  carried  itself 
as  the  great  asylum  of  the  finer  wit,  more  or  less 
expressly  giving  out  that,  as  invoking  hospitality 
or  other  countenance,  none  of  the  stupid,  none  even 
of  the  votaries  of  the  grossly  obvious,  need  apply; 
but  I  could  luckily  at  present  reflect  that  its  meas- 
urements in  this  direction  had  not  always  been  my 
own,  and  that,  moreover,  whatever  precision  they 
possessed,  human  blandness,  even  in  such  happy 
halls,  had  not  been  quite  abolished.  There  was  a 
sound  law  in  virtue  of  which  one  could  always — 
alike  in  privileged  and  unprivileged  circles — rest 
more  on  people's  density  than  on  their  penetrabil- 
ity. Wasn't  it  their  density  too  that  would  be  prac- 
tically nearest  their  good  nature?  Whatever  her 
successive  partners  of  a  moment  might  have  no- 
ticed, they  wouldn't  have  discovered  in  her  reason 
for  dropping  them  quickly  a  principle  of  fear  that 
they  might  notice  her  failure  articulately  to  keep 
up.  My  own  actual  vision,  which  had  developed 
with  such  affluence,  was  that,  in  a  given  case,  she 
could  keep  up  but  for  a  few  minutes  and  was  there- 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

fore  obliged  to  bring  the  contact  to  an  end  before 
exposure.  I  had  consistently  mastered  her  predic- 
ament: she  had  at  once  to  cultivate  contacts,  so 
that  people  shouldn't  guess  her  real  concentration, 
and  to  make  them  a  literal  touch  and  go,  so  that 
they  shouldn't  suspect  the  enfeeblement  of  her 
mind.  It  was  obviously  still  worth  everything  to 
her  that  she  was  so  charming.  I  had  theorised 
with  Mrs.  Brissenden  on  her  supposititious  inanity, 
but  the  explanation  of  such  cynicism  in  either  of  us 
could  only  be  a  sensibility  to  the  truth  that  attrac- 
tions so  great  might  float  her  even  a  long  time  after 
intelligence  pure  and  simple  should  have  collapsed. 
Was  not  my  present  uneasiness,  none  the  less,  a 
private  curiosity  to  ascertain  just  how  much  or  how 
little  of  that  element  she  had  saved  from  the  wreck? 
She  dodged,  doubled,  managed,  broke  off,  clutch- 
ing occasions,  yet  doubtless  risking  dumbnesses, 
vaguenesses  and  other  betrayals,  depending  on  at- 
titudes, motions,  expressions,  a  material  personal- 
ity, in  fine,  in  which  a  plain  woman  would  have 
found  nothing  but  failure;  and  peace  therefore 
might  rule  the  scene  on  every  hypothesis  but  that  of 
her  getting,  to  put  it  crudely,  worse.  How  I  re- 
member saying  to  myself  that  if  she  didn't  get  bet- 
ter she  surely  must  get  worse ! — being  aware  that  I 
referred  on  the  one  side  to  her  occult  surrender  and 
on  the  other  to  its  awful  penalty.  It  became  pres- 
ent to  me  that  she  possibly  might  recover  if  any- 

99 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

thing  should  happen  that  would  pull  her  up,  turn 
her  into  some  other  channel.  If,  however,  that 
consideration  didn't  detain  me  longer  the  fact  may 
stand  as  a  sign  of  how  little  I  believed  in  any  check. 
Gilbert  Long  might  die,  but  not  the  intensity  he 
had  inspired.  The  analogy  with  the  situation  of 
the  Brissendens  here,  I  further  considered,  broke 
down;  I  at  any  rate  rather  positively  welcomed  the 
view  that  the  sacrificed  party  to  that  union  might 
really  find  the  arrest  of  his  decline,  if  not  the  renewal 
of  his  youth,  in  the  loss  of  his  wife.  Would  this 
lady  indeed,  as  an  effect  of  his  death,  begin  to  wrin- 
kle and  shrivel?  It  would  sound  brutal  to  say  that 
this  was  what  I  should  have  preferred  to  hold,  were 
it  not  that  I  in  fact  felt  forced  to  recognise  the 
slightness  of  such  a  chance.  She  would  have  loved 
his  youth,  and  have  made  it  her  own,  in  death  as  in 
life,  and  he  would  have  quitted  the  world,  in  truth, 
only  the  more  effectually  to  leave  it  to  her.  Mrs. 
Server's  quandary — which  was  now  all  I  cared  for 
— was  exactly  in  her  own  certitude  of  every  absence 
of  issue.  But  I  need  give  little  more  evidence  of 
how  it  had  set  me  thinking. 

As  much  as  anything  else,  perhaps,  it  was  the  fear 
of  what  one  of  the  men  might  say  to  me  that  made 
me  for  an  hour  or  two,  at  this  crisis,  continuously 
shy.  Nobody,  doubtless,  would  have  said  anything 
worse  than  that  she  was  more  of  a  flirt  than  ever, 
that  they  had  all  compared  notes  and  would  ac- 

100 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

cordingly  be  interested  in  some  hint  of  another, 
possibly  a  deeper,  experience.  It  would  have  been 
almost  as  embarrassing  to  have  to  tell  them  how 
little  experience  I  had  had  in  fact  as  to  have  had  to 
tell  them  how  much  I  had  had  in  fancy — all  the 
more  that  I  had  as  yet  only  my  thin  idea  of  the  line 
of  feeling  in  her  that  had  led  her  so  to  spare  me.  Tea 
on  the  terraces  represented,  meanwhile,  among  us, 
so  much  neglect  of  everything  else  that  my  medita- 
tions remained  for  some  time  as  unobserved  as  I 
could  desire.  I  was  not,  moreover,  heeding  much 
where  they  carried  me,  and  became  aware  of  what 
I  owed  them  only  on  at  last  rinding  myself  antici- 
pated as  the  occupant  of  an  arbour  into  which  I 
had  strolled.  Then  I  saw  I  had  reached  a  remote 
part  of  the  great  gardens,  and  that  for  some  of  my 
friends  also  secluded  thought  had  inducements; 
though  it  was  not,  I  hasten  to  add,  that  either  of  the 
pair  I  here  encountered  appeared  to  be  striking  out 
in  any  very  original  direction.  Lady  John  and  Guy 
Brissenden,  in  the  arbour,  were  thinking  secludedly 
together;  they  were  together,  that  is,  because  they 
were  scarce  a  foot  apart,  and  they  were  thinking,  I 
inferred,  because  they  were  doing  nothing  else. 
Silence,  by  every  symptom,  had  definitely  settled 
on  them,  and  whatever  it  was  I  interrupted  had  no 
resemblance  to  talk.  Nothing — in  the  general  air 
of  evidence — had  more  struck  me  than  that  what 
Lady  John's  famous  intellect  seemed  to  draw  most 

101 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

from  Brissenden's  presence  was  the  liberty  to  rest. 
Yet  it  shook  off  this  languor  as  soon  as  she  saw  me; 
it  threw  itself  straight  into  the  field;  it  went,  I  could 
see,  through  all  the  motions  required  of  it  by  her 
ladyship's  fallacious  philosophy.  I  could  mark 
these  emotions,  and  what  determined  them,  as  be- 
hind clear  glass. 

I  found,  on  my  side,  a  rare  intellectual  joy,  the 
oddest  secret  exultation,  in  feeling  her  begin  in- 
stantly to  play  the  part  I  had  attributed  to  her  in 
the  irreducible  drama.  She  broke  out  in  a  manner 
that  could  only  have  had  for  its  purpose  to  repre- 
sent to  me  that  mere  weak  amiability  had  commit- 
ted her  to  such  a  predicament.  It  was  to  humour 
her  friend's  husband  that  she  had  strayed  so  far, 
for  she  was  somehow  sorry  for  him,  and — good 
creature  as  we  all  knew  her — had,  on  principle,  a 
kind  little  way  of  her  own  with  silly  infatuations. 
His  was  silly,  but  it  was  unmistakable,  and  she  had 
for  some  time  been  finding  it,  in  short,  a  case  for  a 
special  tact.  That  he  bored  her  to  death  I  might 
have  gathered  by  the  way  they  sat  there,  and  she 
could  trust  me  to  believe — couldn't  she? — that  she 
was  only  musing  as  to  how  she  might  most  humane- 
ly get  rid  of  him.  She  would  lead  him  safely  back 
to  the  fold  if  I  would  give  her  time.  She  seemed 
to  ask  it  all,  oddly,  of  me,  to  take  me  remarkably 
into  her  confidence,  to  refer  me,  for  a  specimen  of 
his  behaviour,  to  his  signal  abandonment  of  his 

102 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

wife  the  day  before,  his  having  waited  over,  to  come 
down,  for  the  train  in  which  poor  she  was  to  travel. 
It  was  at  all  events,  I  felt,  one  of  the  consequences 
of  having  caught  on  to  so  much  that  I  by  this  time 
found  myself  catching  on  to  everything.  I  read 
into  Lady  John's  wonderful  manner — which  quite 
clamoured,  moreover,  for  an  interpretation — all  that 
was  implied  in  the  lesson  I  had  extracted  from  other 
portions  of  the  business.  It  was  distinctly  poor 
she  who  gave  me  the  lead,  and  it  was  not  less  defi- 
nite that  she  put  it  to  me  that  I  should  render  her 
a  service  either  by  remaining  with  them  or  by  in- 
venting something  that  would  lure  her  persecutor 
away.  She  desired  him,  even  at  the  cost  of  her  be- 
ing left  alone,  distracted  from  his  pursuit. 

Poor  he,  in  his  quarter,  I  hasten  to  add,  contrib- 
uted to  my  picking  out  this  embroidery  nothing 
more  helpful  than  a  sustained  detachment.  He 
said  as  little  as  possible,  seemed  heedless  of  what 
was  otherwise  said,  and  only  gave  me  on  his  own 
account  a  look  or  two  of  dim  suggestiveness.  Yet 
it  was  these  looks  that  most  told  with  me,  and 
what  they,  for  their  part,  conveyed  was  a  plea  that 
directly  contradicted  Lady  John's.  I  understood 
him  that  it  was  he  who  was  bored,  he  who  had  been 
pursued,  he  for  whom  perversity  had  become  a 
dreadful  menace,  he,  in  fine,  who  pleaded  for  my 
intervention.  He  was  so  willing  to  trust  me  to 
relieve  him  of  his  companion  that  I  think  he  would 

103 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

simply  have  bolted  without  deferring  to  me  if  I  had 
not  taken  my  precautions  against  it.  I  had,  as  it 
happened,  another  momentary  use  for  him  than 
this:  I  wished  on  the  one  hand  not  to  lose  him 
and  on  the  other  not  to  lose  Lady  John,  though  I 
had  quickly  enough  guessed  this  brilliant  woman's 
real  preference,  of  which  it  in  fact  soon  became  my 
lively  wish  to  see  the  proof.  The  union  of  these 
two  was  too  artificial  for  me  not  already  to  have 
connected  with  it  the  service  it  might  render,  in  her 
ladyship's  view,  to  that  undetected  cultivation,  on 
her  part,  of  a  sentiment  for  Gilbert  Long  which, 
through  his  feigned  response  to  it,  fitted  so  com- 
pletely to  the  other  pieces  in  my  collection.  To 
see  all  this  was  at  the  time,  I  remember,  to  be  as 
inhumanly  amused  as  if  one  had  found  one  could 
create  something.  I  had  created  nothing  but  a  clue 
or  two  to  the  larger  comprehension  I  still  needed, 
yet  I  positively  found  myself  overtaken  by  a  mild 
artistic  glow.  What  had  occurred  was  that,  for  my 
full  demonstration,  I  needed  Long,  and  that,  by  the 
same  stroke,  I  became  sure  I  should  certainly  get 
him  by  temporising  a  little. 

Lady  John  was  in  love  with  him  and  had  kicked 
up,  to  save  her  credit,  the  dust  of  a  fictive  relation 
with  another  man — the  relation  one  of  mere  artifice 
and  the  man  one  in  her  encouragement  of  whom 
nobody  would  believe.  Yet  she  was  also  discover- 
ably divided  between  her  prudence  and  her  vanity, 

104 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

for  if  it  was  difficult  to  make  poor  Briss  figure  at  all 
vividly  as  an  insistent  satellite,  the  thankless  tact 
she  had  to  employ  gave  her  exactly,  she  argued, 
the  right  to  be  refreshingly  fanned  with  an  occa- 
sional flap  of  the  flag  under  which  she  had,  as  she 
ridiculously  fancied,  truly  conquered.  If  she  was 
where  I  found  her  because  her  escort  had  dragged 
her  there,  she  had  made  the  best  of  it  through  the 
hope  of  assistance  from  another  quarter.  She  had 
held  out  on  the  possibility  that  Mr.  Long — whom 
one  could  without  absurdity  sit  in  an  arbour  with — 
might  have  had  some  happy  divination  of  her  plight. 
He  had  had  such  divinations  before — thanks  to  a 
condition >in  him  that  made  sensibility  abnormal — 
and  the  least  a  wretched  woman  could  do  when  be- 
trayed by  the  excess  of  nature's  bounty  was  to  play 
admirer  against  admirer  and  be  "  talked  about  "  on 
her  own  terms.  She  would  just  this  once  have  ad- 
mitted it,  I  was  to  gather,  to  be  an  occasion  for 
pleading  guilty — oh,  so  harmlessly! — to  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  gentleman  mutely  named  between 
us.  Well,  the  "  proof "  I  just  alluded  to  was  that 
I  had  not  sat  with  my  friends  five  minutes  before 
Gilbert  Long  turned  up. 

I  saw  in  a  moment  how  neatly  my  being  there 
with  them  played  his  game;  I  became  in  this  fashion 
a  witness  for  him  that  he  could  almost  as  little  leave 
Lady  John  alone  as — well,  as  other  people  could. 
It  may  perfectly  have  been  the  pleasure  of  this  re- 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

flection  that  again  made  him  free  and  gay — pro- 
duced in  him,  in  any  case,  a  different  shade  of  man- 
ner from  that  with  which,  before  luncheon,  as  the 
consequence  perhaps  of  a  vague  flair  for  my  possi- 
ble penetration,  I  had  suspected  him  of  edging 
away  from  me.  Not  since  my  encounter  with  him 
at  Paddington  the  afternoon  before  had  I  had  so 
to  recognise  him  as  the  transfigured  talker.  To 
see  Lady  John  with  him  was  to  have  little  enough 
doubt  of  her  recognitions,  just  as  this  spectacle  also 
dotted  each  "  i  "  in  my  conviction  of  his  venial — I 
can  only  call  it  that — duplicity.  I  made  up  my 
mind  on  the  spot  that  it  had  been  no  part  of  his  plan 
to  practise  on  her,  and  that  the  worst  he  could  have 
been  accused  of  was  a  good-natured  acceptance, 
more  apparent  than  real,  for  his  own  purposes,  of 
her  theory — which  she  from  time  to  time  let  peep 
out — that  they  would  have  liked  each  other  better 
if  they  hadn't  been  each,  alas !  so  good.  He  profit- 
ed by  the  happy  accident  of  having  pleased  a  per- 
son so  much  in  evidence,  and  indeed  it  was  tolera- 
bly clear  to  me  that  neither  party  was  duped.  Lady 
John  didn't  want  a  lover;  this  would  have  been,  as 
people  say,  a  larger  order  than,  given  the  other 
complications  of  her  existence,  she  could  meet;  but 
she  wanted,  in  a  high  degree,  the  appearance  of 
carrying  on  a  passion  that  imposed  alike  fearless 
realisations  and  conscious  renouncements,  and  this 
circumstance  fully  fell  in  with  the  convenience  and 

106 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

the  special  situation  of  her  friend.  Her  vanity  re- 
joiced, so  far  as  she  dared  to  let  it  nibble,  and  the 
mysteries  she  practised,  the  dissimulations  she  elab- 
orated, the  general  danger  of  detection  in  which 
she  flattered  herself  that  she  publicly  walked,  were 
after  all  so  much  grist  to  the  mill  of  that  appetite. 

By  just  so  much,  however,  as  it  could  never  come 
up  between  them  that  there  was  another  woman  in 
Gilbert's  history,  by  just  so  much  would  it  on  the 
other  hand  have  been  an  articulate  axiom  that  as 
many  of  the  poor  Brisses  of  the  world  as  she  might 
care  to  accommodate  would  be  welcome  to  figure 
in  her  own.  This  personage,  under  that  deeper 
induction,  I  suddenly  became  aware  that  I  also 
greatly  pitied — pitied  almost  as  much  as  I  pitied 
Mrs.  Server;  and  my  pity  had  doubtless  something 
to  do  with  the  fact  that,  after  I  had  proposed  to  him 
that  we  should  adjourn  together  and  we  had,  on  his 
prompt,  even  though  slightly  dry  response,  placed 
the  invidious  arbour  at  a  certain  distance,  I  passed 
my  hand  into  his  arm.  There  were  things  I  wanted 
of  him,  and  the  first  was  that  he  should  let  me  show 
him  I  could  be  kind  to  him.  I  had  made  of  the 
circumstance  of  tea  at  the  house  a  pretext  for  our 
leaving  the  others,  each  of  whom  I  felt  as  rather 
showily  calling  my  attention  to  their  good  old 
ground  for  not  wishing  to  rejoin  the  crowd.  As  to 
what  Brissenden  wished  I  had  made  up  my  mind; 
I  had  made  up  my  mind  as  to  the  subject  of  his 

107 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

thoughts  while  they  wandered,  during  his  deten- 
tion, from  Lady  John;  and  if  the  next  of  my  wishes 
was  to  enter  into  his  desire,  I  had  decided  on  giv- 
ing it  effect  by  the  time  we  reached  the  shortest  of 
the  vistas  at  the  end  of  which  the  house  reared  a 
brave  front. 


108 


VII 

I  STAYED  him  there  while  I  put  it  to  him  that 
he  would  probably  in  fact  prefer  to  go  back. 

"  You're  not  going  then  yourself?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  particularly  want  tea;  and  I  may  as 
well  now  confess  to  you  that  I'm  taking  a  lonely, 
unsociable  walk.  I  don't  enjoy  such  occasions  as 
these,"  I  said,  "  unless  I  from  time  to  time  get  off 
by  myself  somewhere  long  enough  to  tell  myself 
how  much  I  do  enjoy  them.  That's  what  I  was  cul- 
tivating solitude  for  when  I  happened  just  now  to 
come  upon  you.  When  I  found  you  there  with 
Lady  John  there  was  nothing  for  me  but  to  make 
the  best  of  it;  but  I'm  glad  of  this  chance  to  assure 
you  that,  every  appearance  to  the  contrary  not- 
withstanding, I  wasn't  prowling  about  in  search 
of  you." 

"Well,"  my  companion  frankly  replied,  "I'm 
glad  you  turned  up.  I  wasn't  especially  amusing 
myself." 

"  Oh,  I  think  I  know  how  little !  " 

He  fixed  me  a  moment  with  his  pathetic  old  face, 
and  I  knew  more  than  ever  that  I  was  sorry  for 
him.  I  was  quite  extraordinarily  sorry,  and  I  won- 

109 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

dered  whether  I  mightn't  without  offence  or  indis- 
cretion really  let  him  see  it.  It  was  to  this  end  I 
had  held  him  and  wanted  a  little  to  keep  him,  and 
I  was  reassured  as  I  felt  him,  though  I  had  now  re- 
leased him,  linger  instead  of  leaving  me.  I  had 
made  him  uneasy  last  night,  and  a  new  reason  or 
two  for  my  doing  so  had  possibly  even  since  then 
come  up;  yet  these  things  also  would  depend  on  the 
way  he  might  take  them.  The  look  with  which  he 
at  present  faced  me  seemed  to  hint  that  he  would 
take  them  as  I  hoped,  and  there  was  no  curtness, 
but  on  the  contrary  the  dawn  of  a  dim  sense  that 
I  might  possibly  aid  him,  in  the  tone  with  which  he 
came  half-way.  "  You  '  know  '?  " 

"  Ah,"  I  laughed,  "  I  know  everything!  " 
He  didn't  laugh;  I  hadn't  seen  him  laugh,  at 
Newmarch,  once;  he  was  continuously,  portentous- 
ly grave,  and  I  at  present  remembered  how  the 
effect  of  this  had  told  for  me  at  luncheon,  contrasted 
as  it  was  with  that  of  Mrs.  Server's  desperate,  ex- 
quisite levity.  "  You  know  I  decidedly  have  too 
much  of  that  dreadful  old  woman?  " 

There  was  a  sound  in  the  question  that  would 
have  made  me,  to  my  own  sense,  start,  though  I  as 
quickly  hoped  I  had  not  done  so  to  Brissenden's. 
I  couldn't  have  persuaded  myself,  however,  that  I 
had  escaped  showing  him  the  flush  of  my  effort  to 
show  nothing.  I  had  taken  his  disgusted  allusion 
as  to  Mrs.  Brissenden,  and  the  action  of  that  was 

no 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

upsetting.  But  nothing,  fortunately,  was  psycho- 
logically more  interesting  than  to  grasp  the  next 
moment  the  truth  of  his  reference.  It  was  only  the 
fact  of  his  himself  looking  so  much  older  than  Lady 
John  that  had  blinded  me  for  an  instant  to  the  pro- 
priety of  his  not  thinking  of  her  as  young.  She 
wasn't  young  as  he  had  a  right  to  call  people,  and 
I  felt  a  glow — also,  I  feared,  too  visible — as  soon 
as  I  had  seen  whom  he  meant.  His  meaning  Lady 
John  did  me  somehow  so  much  good  that  I  believed 
it  would  have  done  me  still  more  to  hear  him  call 
her  a  harridan  or  a  Jezebel.  It  was  none  of  my 
business;  how  little  was  anything,  when  it  came  to 
that,  my  business ! — yet  indefinably,  unutterably,  I 
felt  assuaged  for  him  and  comforted.  I  verily  be- 
lieve it  hung  in  the  balance  a  minute  or  two  that 
in  my  impulse  to  draw  him  out,  so  that  I  might  give 
him  my  sympathy,  I  was  prepared  to  risk  overturn- 
ing the  edifice  of  my  precautions.  I  luckily,  as  it 
happened,  did  nothing  of  the  sort;  I  contrived  to 
breathe  consolingly  on  his  secret  without  betraying 
an  intention.  There  was  almost  no  one  in  the  place 
save  two  or  three  of  the  very  youngest  women 
whom  he  wouldn't  have  had  a  right  to  call  old. 
Lady  John  was  a  hag,  then;  Mrs.  Server  herself  was 
more  than  on  the  turn;  Gilbert  Long  was  fat  and 
forty;  and  I  cast  about  for  some  light  in  which  I 
could  show  that  I — a  plus  forte  raison — was  a  panta- 
loon. "  Of  course  you  can't  quite  see  the  fun  of 

in 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

it,  and  it  really  isn't  fair  to  you.  You  struck  me 
as  much  more  in  your  element,"  I  ventured  to  add, 
"  when,  this  morning,  more  than  once,  I  chanced  to 
observe  you  led  captive  by  Mrs.  Server." 

"  Oh,  that's  a  different  affair,"  he  answered  with 
an  accent  that  promised  a  growth  of  confidence. 

"  Mrs.  Server's  an  old  woman,"  I  continued,  "  but 
she  can't  seem  to  a  fellow  like  you  as  old  as  Lady 
John.  She  has  at  any  rate  more  charm;  though 
perhaps  not,"  I  added,  "  quite  so  much  talk." 

On  this  he  said  an  extraordinary  thing,  which  all 
but  made  me  start  again.  "  Oh,  she  hasn't  any 
talk!" 

I  took,  as  quickly  as  possible,  refuge  in  a  sur- 
prised demurrer.  "  Not  any?  " 

"  None  to  speak  of." 

I  let  all  my  wonder  come.  "  But  wasn't  she  chat- 
tering to  you  at  luncheon?  "  It  forced  him  to  meet 
my  eyes  at  greater  length,  and  I  could  already  see 
that  my  experiment — for  insidiously  and  pardon- 
ably such  I  wished  to  make  it — was  on  the  way  to 
succeed.  I  had  been  right  then,  and  I  knew  where 
I  stood.  He  couldn't  have  been  "  drawn  "  on  his 
wife,  and  he  couldn't  have  been  drawn,  in  the  least 
directly,  on  himself,  but  as  he  could  thus  easily  be 
on  Lady  John,  so  likewise  he  could  on  other  women, 
or  on  the  particular  one,  at  least,  who  mattered  to 
me.  I  felt  I  really  knew  what  I  was  about,  for  to 
draw  him  on  Mrs.  Server  was  in  truth  to  draw  him 


112 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

indirectly  on  himself.  It  was  indeed  perhaps  be- 
cause I  had  by  this  time  in  a  measure  expressed, 
in  terms  however  general,  the  interest  with  which 
he  inspired  me,  that  I  now  found  myself  free  to 
shift  the  ground  of  my  indiscretion.  I  only  wanted 
him  to  know  that  on  the  question  of  Mrs.  Server  I 
was  prepared  to  go  as  far  with  him  as  he  should 
care  to  move.  How  it  came  to  me  now  that  he 
was  the  absolutely  safe  person  in  the  house  to  talk 
of  her  with !  "  I  was  too  far  away  from  you  to 
hear,"  I  had  gone  on;  "  and  I  could  only  judge  of 
her  flow  of  conversation  from  the  animated  expres- 
sion of  her  face.  It  was  extraordinarily  animated. 
But  that,  I  admit,"  I  added,  "  strikes  one  always  as 
a  sort  of  parti  pris  with  her.  She's  never  not  ex- 
traordinarily animated." 

"  She  has  no  flow  of  conversation  whatever,"  said 
Guy  Brissenden. 

I  considered.     "  Really?  " 

He  seemed  to  look  at  me  quite  without  uneasiness 
now.  "  Why,  haven't  you  seen  for  yourself ?  " 

"  How  the  case  stands  with  her  on  that  head? 
Do  you  mean  haven't  I  talked  with  her?  Well, 
scarcely;  for  it's  a  fact  that  every  man  in  the  house 
but  I  strikes  me  as  having  been  deluged  with  that 
privilege :  if  indeed,"  I  laughed,  "  her  absence  of 
topics  suffers  it  to  be  either  a  privilege  or  a  deluge ! 
She  affects  me,  in  any  case,  as  determined  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  me.  She  walks  all  the  rest  of 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

you  about;  she  gives  you  each  your  turn;  me  only 
she  skips,  she  systematically  ignores.  I'm  half 
consoled  for  it,  however,"  I  wound  up,  "  by  see- 
ing what  short  innings  any  individual  of  you  has. 
You  personally  strike  me  as  having  had  the  long- 
est." 

Brissenden  appeared  to  wonder  where  I  was 
coming  out,  yet  not  as  if  he  feared  it.  There  was 
even  a  particular  place,  if  I  could  but  guess  it,  where 
he  would  have  liked  me  to  come.  "  Oh,  she's  ex- 
tremely charming.  But  of  course  she's  strikingly 
odd." 

"Odd?— really?" 

"  Why,  in  the  sense,  I  mean,  that  I  thought  you 
suggested  you've  noticed." 

"  That  of  extravagant  vivacity?  Oh,  I've  had 
to  notice  it  at  a  distance,  without  knowing  what  it 
represents." 

He  just  hesitated.  "  You  haven't  any  idea  at  all 
what  it  represents?  " 

"  How  should  I  have,"  I  smiled,  "  when  she  never 
comes  near  me?  I've  thought  that,  as  I  tell  you, 
marked.  What  does  her  avoidance  of  me  repre- 
sent? Has  she  happened,  with  you,  to  throw  any 
light  on  it?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  Brissenden  after  another  mo- 
ment, "  that  she's  rather  afraid  of  you." 

I  could  only  be  surprised.  "  The  most  harmless 
man  in  the  house?  " 

114 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"Are  you  really?"  he  asked — and  there  was  a 
touch  of  the  comic  in  hearing  him  put  it  with  his 
inveterate  gravity. 

"  If  you  take  me  for  anything  else,"  I  replied,  "  I 
doubt  if  you'll  find  anyone  to  back  you." 

My  companion,  on  this,  looked  away  for  a  little, 
turned  about,  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  house,  seemed, 
as  with  a  drop  of  interest,  on  the  point  of  leaving 
me.  But  instead  of  leaving  me  he  brought  out  the 
next  moment :  "  I  don't  want  anyone  to  back  me. 
I  don't  care.  I  didn't  mean  just  now,"  he  contin- 
ued, "  that  Mrs.  Server  has  said  to  me  anything 
against  you,  or  that  she  fears  you  because  she  dis- 
likes you.  She  only  told  me  she  thought  you 
disliked  her." 

It  gave  me  a  kind  of  shock.  "  A  creature  so 
beautiful,  and  so — so " 

"  So  what?  "  he  asked  as  I  found  myself  checked 
by  my  desire  to  come  to  her  aid. 

"  Well,  so  brilliantly  happy." 

I  had  all  his  attention  again.  "  Is  that  what  she 
is?  " 

"  Then  don't  you,  with  your  opportunities, 
know?  "  I  was  conscious  of  rather  an  inspiration, 
a  part  of  which  was  to  be  jocose.  "  What  are  you 
trying,"  I  laughed,  "  to  get  out  of  me?  " 

It  struck  me  luckily  that,  though  he  remained  as 
proof  against  gaiety  as  ever,  he  was,  thanks  to  his 
preoccupation,  not  disagreeably  affected  by  my 

"5 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

tone.  "  Of  course  if  you've  no  idea,  I  can  get  noth- 
ing." 

"  No  idea  of  what?  " 

Then  it  was  that  I  at  last  got  it  straight.  "  Well, 
of  what's  the  matter  with  her." 

"  Is  there  anything  particular?  If  there  is"  I 
went  on,  "  there's  something  that  I've  got  out  of 
you! " 

"  How  so,  if  you  don't  know  what  it  is?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  if  you  yourself  don't?  "  But 
without  detaining  him  on  this,  "  Of  what  in  especial 
do  the  signs,"  I  asked,  "  consist?  " 

"  Well,  of  everyone's  thinking  so — that  there's 
something  or  other." 

This  again  struck  me,  but  it  struck  me  too  much. 
"  Oh,  everyone's  a  fool !  " 

He  saw,  in  his  queer  wan  way,  how  it  had  done 
so.  "  Then  you  have  your  own  idea?  " 

I  daresay  my  smile  at  him,  while  I  waited,  showed 
a  discomfort.  "  Do  you  mean  people  are  talking 
about  her?  " 

But  he  waited  himself.  "  Haven't  they  shown 
you ?  » 

"  No,  no  one  has  spoken.  Moreover  I  wouldn't 
have  let  them." 

"  Then  there  you  are! "  Brissenden  exclaimed. 
"  If  you've  kept  them  off,  it  must  be  because  you 
differ  with  them." 

"  I  shan't  be  sure  of  that,"  I  returned,  "  till  I 
116 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

know  what  they  think!  However,  I  repeat,"  I 
added,  "  that  I  shouldn't  even  then  care.  I  don't 
mind  admitting  that  she  much  interests  me." 

"  There  you  are,  there  you  are !  "  he  said  again. 

"  That's  all  that's  the  matter  with  her  so  far  as 
I'm  concerned.  You  see,  at  any  rate,  how  little  it 
need  make  her  afraid  of  me.  She's  lovely  and  she's 
gentle  and  she's  happy." 

My  friend  kept  his  eyes  on  me.  "  What  is  there 
to  interest  you  so  in  that?  Isn't  it  a  description 
that  applies  here  to  a  dozen  other  women?  You 
can't  say,  you  know,  that  you're  interested  in  them, 
for  you  just  spoke  of  them  as  so  many  fools." 

There  was  a  certain  surprise  for  me  in  so  much 
acuteness,  which,  however,  doubtless  admonished 
me  as  to  the  need  of  presence  of  mind.  "  I  wasn't 
thinking  of  the  ladies — I  was  thinking  of  the  men." 

"  That's  amiable  to  me,"  he  said  with  his  gentle 
gloom. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Brissenden,  I  except '  you.' ' 

"  And  why  should  you?  " 

I  felt  a  trifle  pushed.  "  I'll  tell  you  some  other 
time.  And  among  the  ladies  I  except  Mrs.  Bris- 
senden, with  whom,  as  you  may  have  noticed,  I've 
been  having  much  talk." 

"  And  will  you  tell  me  some  other  time  about 
that  too?  "  On  which,  as  I  but  amicably  shook  my 
head  for  no,  he  had  his  first  dimness  of  pleasantry. 
"  I'll  get  it  then  from  my  wife." 

117 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"  Never.     She  won't  tell  you." 

"  She  has  passed  you  her  word?  That  won't 
alter  the  fact  that  she  tells  me  everything." 

He  really  said  it  in  a  way  that  made  me  take 
refuge  for  an  instant  in  looking  at  my  watch.  "  Are 
you  going  back  to  tea?  If  you  are,  I'll,  in  spite  of 
my  desire  to  roam,  walk  twenty  steps  with  you." 
I  had  already  again  put  my  hand  into  his  arm,  and 
we  strolled  for  a  little  till  I  threw  off  that  I  was  sure 
Mrs.  Server  was  waiting  for  him.  To  this  he  re- 
plied that  if  I  wished  to  get  rid  of  him  he  was  as 
willing  to  take  that  as  anything  else  for  granted — 
an  observation  that  I,  on  my  side,  answered  with  an 
inquiry,  though  an  inquiry  that  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  "  Do  you  also  tell  everything  to  Mrs.  Bris- 
senden?  " 

It  brought  him  up  shorter  than  I  had  expected. 
"  Do  you  ask  me  that  in  order  that  I  shan't  speak 
to  her  of  this?  " 

I  showed  myself  at  a  loss.     "  Of '  this  ' ?  " 

"  Why,  of  what  we've  made  out " 

"  About  Mrs.  Server,  you  and  I?  You  must  act 
as  to  that,  my  dear  fellow,  quite  on  your  own  dis- 
cretion. All  the  more  that  what  on  earth  have  we 
made  out?  I  assure  you  I  haven't  a  secret  to  con- 
fide to  you  about  her,  except  that  I've  never  seen  a 
person  more  unquenchably  radiant." 

He  almost  jumped  at  it.     "  Well,  that's  just  it !  " 

"But  just  what?" 

118 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

"  Why,  what  they're  all  talking  about.  That  she 
is  so  awfully  radiant.  That  she's  so  tremendously 
happy.  It's  the  question,"  he  explained,  "  of  what 
in  the  world  she  has  to  make  her  so." 

I  winced  a  little,  but  tried  not  to  show  it.  "  My 
dear  man,  how  do  7  know?  " 

"  She  thinks  you  know,"  fie  after  a  moment  an- 
swered. 

I  could  only  stare.  "  Mrs.  Server  thinks  I  know 
what  makes  her  happy?  "  I  the  more  easily  repre- 
sented such  a  conviction  as  monstrous  in  that  it 
truly  had  its  surprise  for  me. 

But  Brissenden  now  was  all  with  his  own  thought. 
"  She  isn't  happy." 

"  You  mean  that  that's  what's  the  matter  with 

her  under  her  appearance ?     Then  what  makes 

the  appearance  so  extraordinary?  " 

"  Why,  exactly  what  I  mention — that  one  doesn't 
see  anything  whatever  in  her  to  correspond  to 
it." 

I  hesitated.  "  Do  you  mean  in  her  circum- 
stances? " 

"  Yes — or  in  her  character.  Her  circumstances 
are  nothing  wonderful.  She  has  none  too  much 
money;  she  has  had  three  children  and  lost  them; 
and  nobody  that  belongs  to  her  appears  ever  to 
have  been  particularly  nice  to  her." 

I  turned  it  over.  "  How  you  do  get  on  with 
her!" 

119 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"  Do  you  call  it  getting  on  with  her  to  be  the 
more  bewildered  the  more  I  see  her?  " 

"  Isn't  to  say  you're  bewildered  only,  on  the 
whole,  to  say  you're  charmed?  That  always — 
doesn't  it? — describes  more  or  less  any  engrossed 
relation  with  a  lovely  lady." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  sure  I'm  so  charmed."  He 
spoke  as  if  he  had  thought  this  particular  question 
over  for  himself;  he  had  his  way  of  being  lucid  with- 
out brightness.  "  I'm  not  at  all  easily  charmed, 
you  know,"  he  the  next  moment  added;  "and 
I'm  not  a  fellow  who  goes  about  much  after 


women." 


"  Ah,  that  I  never  supposed !  Why  in  the  world 
should  you?  It's  the  last  thing !"  I  laughed.  "But 
isn't  this — quite  (what  shall  one  call  it?)  innocently 
— rather  a  peculiar  case?  " 

My  question  produced  in  him  a  little  gesture  of 
elation — a  gesture  emphasised  by  a  snap  of  his  fore- 
finger and  thumb.  "  I  knew  you  knew  it  was  spe- 
cial !  I  knew  you've  been  thinking  about  it !  " 

"  You  certainly,"  I  replied  with  assurance,  "  have, 
during  the  last  five  minutes,  made  me  do  so  with 
some  sharpness.  I  don't  pretend  that  I  don't  now 
recognise  that  there  must  be  something  the  matter. 
I  only  desire — not  unnaturally — that  there  should 
be,  to  put  me  in  the  right  for  having  thought,  if,  as 
you're  so  sure,  such  a  freedom  as  that  can  be 
brought  home  to  me.  If  Mrs.  Server  is  beautiful 

1 20 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

and  gentle  and  strange,"  I  speciously  went  on, 
"  what  are  those  things  but  an  attraction?  " 

I  saw  how  he  had  them,  whatever  they  were,  be- 
fore him  as  he  slowly  shook  his  head.  "  They're 
not  an  attraction.  They're  too  queer." 

I  caught  in  an  instant  my  way  to  fall  in  with  him; 
and  not  the  less  that  I  by  this  time  felt  myself  com- 
mitted, up  to  the  intellectual  eyes,  to  ascertaining 
just  how  queer  the  person  under  discussion  might 
be.  "  Oh,  of  course  I'm  not  speaking  of  her  as  a 
party  to  a  silly  flirtation,  or  an  object  of  any  sort  of 
trivial  pursuit.  But  there  are  so  many  different 
ways  of  being  taken." 

"  For  a  fellow  like  you.  But  not  for  a  fellow 
like  me.  For  me  there's  only  one." 

"  To  be,  you  mean,  in  love?  " 

He  put  it  a  little  differently.  "  Well,  to  be  thor- 
oughly pleased." 

"  Ah,  that's  doubtless  the  best  way  and  the  firm 
ground.  And  you  mean  you're  not  thoroughly 
pleased  with  Mrs.  Server?  " 

"  No — and  yet  I  want  to  be  kind  to  her.  There- 
fore what's  the  matter?  " 

"  Oh,  if  it's  what's  the  matter  with  you  you  ask 
me,  that  extends  the  question.  If  you  want  to  be 
kind  to  her,  you  get  on  with  her,  as  we  were  saying, 
quite  enough  for  my  argument.  And  isn't  the  mat- 
ter also,  after  all,"  I  demanded,  "  that  you  simply 
feel  she  desires  you  to  be  kind?  " 

121 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  She  does  that."  And  he  looked  at  me  as  with 
the  sense  of  drawing  from  me,  for  his  relief,  some 
greater  help  than  I  was  as  yet  conscious  of  the  cour- 
age to  offer.  "  It  is  that  she  desires  me.  She  likes 
it.  And  the  extraordinary  thing  is  that  /  like  it." 

"  And  why  in  the  world  shouldn't  you?  " 

"  Because  she  terrifies  me.  She  has  something 
to  hide." 

"  But,  my  dear  man,"  I  asked  with  a  gaiety  sin- 
gularly out  of  relation  to  the  small  secret  thrill 
produced  in  me  by  these  words — "  my  dear  man, 
what  woman  who's  worth  anything  hasn't?  " 

"  Yes,  but  there  are  different  ways.  What  she 
tries  for  is  this  false  appearance  of  happiness." 

I  weighed  it.     "  But  isn't  that  the  best  thing?  " 

"  It's  terrible  to  have  to  keep  it  up." 

"  Ah,  but  if  you  don't  for  her?  If  it  all  comes  on 
herself?  " 

"  It  doesn't,"  Guy  Brissenden  presently  said.  "  I 
do — t  for  '  her — help  to  keep  it  up."  And  then,  still 
unexpectedly  to  me,  came  out  the  rest  of  his  confes- 
sion. "  I  want  to — I  try  to;  that's  what  I  mean  by 
being  kind  to  her,  and  by  the  gratitude  with  which 
she  takes  it.  One  feels  that  one  doesn't  want  her 
to  break  down." 

It  was  on  this — from  the  poignant  touch  in  it — 
that  I  at  last  felt  I  had  burnt  my  ships  and  didn't 
care  how  much  I  showed  I  was  with  him.  "  Oh, 
but  she  won't.  You  must  keep  her  going." 

122 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

He  stood  a  little  with  a  thumb  in  each  pocket  of 
his  trousers,  and  his  melancholy  eyes  ranging  far 
over  my  head — over  the  tops  of  the  highest  trees. 
"  Who  am  /  to  keep  people  going?  " 

"  Why,  you're  just  the  man.  Aren't  you. 
happy?  " 

He  still  ranged  the  tree-tops.     "  Yes." 

"  Well,  then,  you  belong  to  the  useful  class. 
You've  the  wherewithal  to  give.  It's  the  happy 
people  who  should  help  the  others." 

He  had,  in  the  same  attitude,  another  pause. 
"  It's  easy  for  you  to  talk !  " 

"  Because  I'm  not  happy?  " 

It  made  him  bring  his  eyes  again  down  to  me. 
"  I  think  you're  a  little  so  now  at  my  expense." 

I  shook  my  head  reassuringly.  "  It  doesn't  cost 
you  anything  if — as  I  confess  to  it  now — I  do  to 
some  extent  understand." 

"  That's  more,  then,  than — after  talking  of  it  this 
way  with  you — I  feel  that  /  do !  " 

He  had  brought  that  out  with  a  sudden  sigh, 
turning  away  to  go  on;  so  that  we  took  a  few  steps 
more.  "  You've  nothing  to  trouble  about,"  I  then 
freely  remarked,  "  but  that  you  are  as  kind  as  the 
case  requires  and  that  you  do  help.  I  daresay  that 
you'll  find  her  even  now  on  the  terrace  looking  out 
for  you."  I  patted  his  back,  as  we  went  a  little 
further,  but  as  I  still  preferred  to  stay  away  from  the 
house  I  presently  stopped  again.  "  Don't  fall  be- 

123 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

low  your  chance.     Noblesse  oblige.     We'll  pull  her 
through." 

"  You  say  '  we/  "  he  returned,  "  but  you  do  keep 
out  of  it !  " 

"  Why  should  you  wish  me  to  interfere  with 
you?  "  I  asked.  "  I  wouldn't  keep  out  of  it  if  she 
wanted  me  as  much  as  she  wants  you.  That,  by 
your  own  admission,  is  exactly  what  she  doesn't." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Brissenden,  "  I'll  make  her 
go  for  you.  I  think  I  want  your  assistance  quite 
as  much  as  she  can  want  mine." 

"  Oh,"  I  protested  for  this,  "  I've  really  given  you 
already  every  ounce  of  mine  I  can  squeeze  out. 
And  you  know  for  yourself  far  more  than  I  do." 

"  No,  I  don't !  " — with  which  he  became  quite 
sharp;  "  for  you  know  how  you  know  it — which  I've 
not  a  notion  of.  It's  just  what  I  think,"  he  con- 
tinued, facing  me  again,  "  you  ought  to  tell  me." 

"  I'm  a  little  in  doubt  of  what  you're  talking  of, 
but  I  suppose  you  to  allude  to  the  oddity  of  my  be- 
ing so  much  interested  without  my  having  been 
more  informed." 

"  You've  got  some  clue,"  Brissenden  said;  "  and 
a  clue  is  what  I  myself  want." 

"  Then  get  it,"  I  laughed,  "  from  Mrs.  Server!  " 

He  wondered.     "  Does  she  know?  " 

I  had  still,  after  all,  to  dodge  a  little.  "  Know 
what?  " 

"  Why,  that  you've  found  out  what  she  has  to 
hide." 

124 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  You're  perfectly  free  to  ask  her.  I  wonder 
even  that  you  haven't  done  so  yet." 

"  Well,"  he  said  with  the  finest  stroke  of  uncon- 
sciousness he  had  yet  shown  me — "  well,  I  suppose 
it's  because  I'm  afraid  of  her." 

"  But  not  too  much  afraid,"  I  risked  suggesting, 
"  to  be  hoping  at  this  moment  that  you'll  find  her 
if  you  go  back  to  where  most  of  our  party  is  gath- 
ered. You're  not  going  for  tea — you're  going  for 
Mrs.  Server :  just  of  whom  it  was,  as  I  say,  you  were 
thinking  while  you  sat  there  with  Lady  John.  So 
what  is  it  you  so  greatly  fear?  " 

It  was  as  if  I  could  see  through  his  dim  face  a  sort 
of  gratitude  for  my  making  all  this  out  to  him.  "  I 
don't  know  that  it's  anything  that  she  may  do  to 
me."  He  could  make  it  out  in  a  manner  for  him- 
self. "  It's  as  if  something  might  happen  to  her. 
It's  what  I  told  you — that  she  may  break  down. 
If  you  ask  me  how,  or  in  what,"  he  continued, 
"  how  can  I  tell  you?  In  whatever  it  is  that  she's 
trying  to  do.  I  don't  understand  it."  Then  he 
wound  up  with  a  sigh  that,  in  spite  of  its  softness, 
he  imperfectly  stifled.  "  But  it's  something  or 
other!" 

"  What  would  it  be,  then,"  I  asked,  "  but  what 
you  speak  of  as  what  I've  '  found  out '?  The  effort 
you  distinguish  in  her  is  the  effort  of  concealment — 
vain,  as  I  gather  it  strikes  you  both,  so  far  as  /,  in 
my  supernatural  acuteness,  am  concerned." 

125 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

Following  this  with  the  final  ease  to  which  my 
encouragement  directly  ministered,  he  yet  gave  me, 
before  he  had  quite  arrived,  a  queer  sidelong  glance. 
"  Wouldn't  it  really  be  better  if  you  were  to  tell  me? 
I  don't  ask  her  myself,  you  see.  I  don't  put  things 
to  her  in  that  way." 

"  Oh,  no — I've  shown  you  how  I  do  see.  That's 
a  part  of  your  admirable  consideration.  But  I  must 
repeat  that  nothing  would  induce  me  to  tell  you." 

His  poor  old  face  fairly  pleaded.  "  But  I  want 
so  to  know." 

"  Ah,  there  it  is ! "  I  almost  triumphantly 
laughed. 

"  There  what  is?  " 

"  Why,  everything.  What  I've  divined,  between 
you  and  Mrs.  Server,  as  the  tie.  Your  wanting  so 
to  know." 

I  felt  as  if  he  were  now,  intellectually  speaking, 
plastic  wax  in  my  hand.  "  And  her  wanting  me 
not  to?" 

"  Wanting  me  not  to,"  I  smiled. 

He  puzzled  it  out.  "  And  being  willing,  there- 
fore  " 

"  That  you — you  only,  for  sympathy,  for  fellow- 
ship, for  the  wild  wonder  of  it — should  know? 
Well,  for  all  those  things,  and  in  spite  of  what  you 
call  your  fear,  try  her !  "  With  which  now  at  last  I 
quitted  him. 


126 


VIII 

I'M  afraid  I  can't  quite  say  what,  after  that,  I  at 
first  did,  nor  just  how  I  immediately  profited 
by  our  separation.  I  felt  absurdly  excited,  though 
this  indeed  was  what  I  had  felt  all  day;  there  had 
been  in  fact  deepening  degrees  of  it  ever  since  my 
first  mystic  throb  after  finding  myself,  the  day  be- 
fore in  our  railway-carriage,  shut  up  to  an  hour's 
contemplation  and  collation,  as  it  were,  of  Gilbert 
Long  and  Mrs.  Brissenden.  I  have  noted  how  my 
first  full  contact  with  the  changed  state  of  these  as- 
sociates had  caused  the  knell  of  the  tranquil  mind 
audibly  to  ring  for  me.  I  have  spoken  of  my  sharp- 
ened perception  that  something  altogether  out  of 
the  common  had  happened,  independently,  to  each, 
and  I  could  now  certainly  flatter  myself  that  I  hadn't 
missed  a  feature  of  the  road  I  had  thus  been  beguiled 
to  travel.  It  was  a  road  that  had  carried  me  far, 
and  verily  at  this  hour  I  felt  far.  I  daresay  that  for 
a  while  after  leaving  poor  Briss,  after  what  I  may 
indeed  call  launching  him,  this  was  what  I  predom- 
inantly felt.  To  be  where  I  was,  to  whatever  else 
it  might  lead,  treated  me  by  its  help  to  the  taste  of 
success.  It  appeared  then  that  the  more  things  I 

127 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

fitted  together  the  larger  sense,  every  way,  they 
made — a  remark  in  which  I  found  an  extraordinary 
elation.  It  justified  my  indiscreet  curiosity;  it 
crowned  my  underhand  process  with  beauty.  The 
beauty  perhaps  was  only  for  me — the  beauty  of  hav- 
ing been  right;  it  made  at  all  events  an  element  in 
which,  while  the  long  day  softly  dropped,  I  wan- 
dered and  drifted  and  securely  floated.  This  ele- 
ment bore  me  bravely  up,  and  my  private  triumph 
struck  me  as  all  one  with  the  charm  of  the  moment 
and  of  the  place. 

There  was  a  general  shade  in  all  the  lower  reaches 
— a  fine  clear  dusk  in  garden  and  grove,  a  thin  suf- 
fusion of  twilight  out  of  which  the  greater  things, 
the  high  tree-tops  and  pinnacles,  the  long  crests  of 
motionless  wood  and  chimnied  roof,  rose  into 
golden  air.  The  last  calls  of  birds  sounded  ex- 
traordinarily loud;  they  were  like  the  timed,  serious 
splashes,  in  wide,  still  water,  of  divers  not  expecting 
to  rise  again.  I  scarce  know  what  odd  conscious- 
ness I  had  of  roaming  at  close  of  day  in  the  grounds 
of  some  castle  of  enchantment.  I  had  positively 
encountered  nothing  to  compare  with  this  since  the 
days  of  fairy-tales  and  of  the  childish  imagination 
of  the  impossible.  Then  I  used  to  circle  round  en- 
chanted castles,  for  then  I  moved  in  a  world  in 
which  the  strange  "  came  true."  It  was  the  com- 
ing true  that  was  the  proof  of  the  enchantment, 
which,  moreover,  was  naturally  never  so  great  as 

128 


THE    SACRED   FOUNT 

when  such  coming  was,  to  such  a  degree  and  by  the 
most  romantic  stroke  of  all,  the  fruit  of  one's  own 
wizardry.  I  was  positively — so  had  the  wheel  re- 
volved— proud  of  my  work.  I  had  thought  it  all 
out,  and  to  have  thought  it  was,  wonderfully,  to 
have  brought  it.  Yet  I  recall  how  I  even  then 
knew  on  the  spot  that  there  was  something  supreme 
I  should  have  failed  to  bring  unless  I  had  happened 
suddenly  to  become  aware  of  the  very  presence  of 
the  haunting  principle,  as  it  were,  of  my  thought. 
This  was  the  light  in  which  Mrs.  Server,  walking 
alone  now,  apparently,  in  the  grey  wood  and  paus- 
ing at  sight  of  me,  showed  herself  in  her  clear  dress 
at  the  end  of  a  vista.  It  was  exactly  as  if  she  had 
been  there  by  the  operation  of  my  intelligence,  or 
even  by  that — in  a  still  happier  way — of  my  feeling. 
My  excitement,  as  I  have  called  it,  on  seeing  her, 
was  assuredly  emotion.  Yet  what  was  this  feeling, 
really? — of  which,  at  the  point  we  had  thus  reached, 
I  seemed  to  myself  to  have  gathered  from  all  things 
an  invitation  to  render  some  account. 

Well,  I  knew  within  the  minute  that  I  was  moved 
by  it  as  by  an  extraordinary  tenderness;  so  that  this 
is  the  name  I  must  leave  it  to  make  the  best  of.  It 
had  already  been  my  impression  that  I  was  sorry  for 
her,  but  it  was  marked  for  me  now  that  I  was 
sorrier  than  I  had  reckoned.  All  her  story  seemed 
at  once  to  look  at  me  out  of  the  fact  of  her  present 
lonely  prowl.  I  met  it  without  demur,  only  want- 

129 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

ing  her  to  know  that  if  I  struck  her  as  waylaying 
her  in  the  wood,  as  waiting  for  her  there  at  eventide 
with  an  idea,  I  shouldn't  in  the  least  defend  myself 
from  the  charge.  I  can  scarce  clearly  tell  how 
many  fine  strange  things  I  thought  of  during  this 
brief  crisis  of  her  hesitation.  I  wanted  in  the  first 
place  to  make  it  end,  and  while  I  moved  a  few  steps 
toward  her  I  felt  almost  as  noiseless  and  guarded 
as  if  I  were  trapping  a  bird  or  stalking  a  fawn.  My 
few  steps  brought  me  to  a  spot  where  another  per- 
spective crossed  our  own,  so  that  they  made  to- 
gether a  verdurous  circle  with  an  evening  sky  above 
and  great  lengthening,  arching  recesses  in  which 
the  twilight  thickened.  Oh,  it  was  quite  sufficient- 
ly the  castle  of  enchantment,  and  when  I  noticed 
four  old  stone  seats,  massive  and  mossy  and  sym- 
metrically placed,  I  recognised  not  only  the  influ- 
ence, in  my  adventure,  of  the  grand  style,  but  the 
familiar  identity  of  this  consecrated  nook,  which 
was  so  much  of  the  type  of  all  the  bemused  and 
remembered.  We  were  in  a  beautiful  old  picture, 
we  were  in  a  beautiful  old  tale,  and  it  wouldn't  be 
the  fault  of  Newmarch  if  some  other  green  carre- 
four,  not  far  off,  didn't  balance  with  this  one  and 
offer  the  alternative  of  niches,  in  the  greenness,  oc- 
cupied by  weather-stained  statues  on  florid  pedes- 
tals. 

I  sat  straight  down  on  the  nearest  of  our  benches, 
for  this  struck  me  as  the  best  way  to  express  the 

130 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

conception  with  which  the  sight  of  Mrs.  Server  filled 
me.  It  showed  her  that  if  I  watched  her  I  also 
waited  for  her,  and  that  I  was  therefore  not  affected 
in  any  manner  she  really  need  deprecate.  She  had 
been  too  far  off  for  me  to  distinguish  her  face,  but 
her  approach  had  faltered  long  enough  to  let  me 
see  that  if  she  had  not  taken  it  as  too  late  she  would, 
to  escape  me,  have  found  some  pretext  for  turning 
off.  It  was  just  my  seating  myself  that  made  the 
difference — it  was  my  being  so  simple  with  her  that 
brought  her  on.  She  came  slowly  and  a  little  wear- 
ily down  the  vista,  and  her  sad,  shy  advance,  with 
the  massed  wood  on  either  side  of  her,  was  like  the 
reminiscence  of  a  picture  or  the  refrain  of  a  ballad. 
What  made  the  difference  with  me — if  any  differ- 
ence had  remained  to  be  made — was  the  sense  of 
this  sharp  cessation  of  her  public  extravagance. 
She  had  folded  up  her  manner  in  her  flounced  para- 
sol, which  she  seemed  to  drag  after  her  as  a  sorry 
soldier  his  musket.  It  was  present  to  me  without 
a  pang  that  this  was  the  person  I  had  sent  poor 
Briss  off  to  find — the  person  poor  Briss  would  owe 
me  so  few  thanks  for  his  failure  to  have  found.  It 
was  equally  marked  to  me  that,  however  detached 
and  casual  she  might,  at  the  first  sight  of  me,  have 
wished  to  show  herself,  it  was  to  alight  on  poor 
Briss  that  she  had  come  out,  it  was  because  he  had 
not  been  at  the  house  and  might  therefore,  on  his 
side,  be  wandering,  that  she  had  taken  care  to  be 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

unaccompanied.  My  demonstration  was  complete 
from  the  moment  I  thus  had  them  in  the  act  of  seek- 
ing each  other,  and  I  was  so  pleased  at  having  gath- 
ered them  in  that  I  cared  little  what  else  they  had 
missed.  I  neither  moved  nor  spoke  till  she  had 
come  quite  near  me,  and  as  she  also  gave  no  sound 
the  meaning  of  our  silence  seemed  to  stare  straight 
out.  It  absolutely  phrased  there,  in  all  the  won- 
derful conditions,  a  relation  already  established;  but 
the  strange  and  beautiful  thing  was  that  as  soon  as 
we  had  recognised  and  accepted  it  this  relation  put 
us  almost  at  our  ease.  '  You  must  be  weary  of 
walking,"  I  said  at  last,  "  and  you  see  I've  been 
keeping  a  seat  for  you." 

I  had  finally  got  up,  as  a  sign  of  welcome,  but  I 
had  directly  afterwards  resumed  my  position,  and 
it  was  an  illustration  of  the  terms  on  which  we 
met  that  we  neither  of  us  seemed  to  mind  her 
being  meanwhile  on  her  feet.  She  stood  before 
me  as  if  to  take  in — with  her  smile  that  had  by 
this  time  sunk  quite  to  dimness — more  than  we 
should,  either  of  us,  after  all,  be  likely  to  be  able 
to  say.  I  even  saw  from  this  moment,  I  think,  that, 
whatever  she  might  understand,  she  would  be  able 
herself  to  say  but  little.  She  gave  herself,  in  that 
minute,  more  than  she  doubtless  knew  —  gave 
herself,  I  mean,  to  my  intenser  apprehension. 
She  went  through  the  form  of  expression,  but 
what  told  me  everything  was  the  way  the  form  of 

132 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

expression  broke  down.  Her  lovely  grimace,  the 
light  of  the  previous  hours,  was  as  blurred  as  a 
bit  of  brushwork  in  water-colour  spoiled  by  the  up- 
setting of  the  artist's  glass.  She  fixed  me  with  it  as 
she  had  fixed  during  the  day  forty  persons,  but  it 
fluttered  like  a  bird  with  a  broken  wing.  She 
looked  about  and  above,  down  each  of  our  dusky 
avenues  and  up  at  our  gilded  tree-tops  and  our 
painted  sky,  where,  at  the  moment,  the  passage  of  a 
flight  of  rooks  made  a  clamour.  She  appeared  to 
wish  to  produce  some  explanation  of  her  solitude, 
but  I  was  quickly  enough  sure  that  she  would  never 
find  a  presentable  one.  I  only  wanted  to  show  her 
how  little  I  required  it.  "  I  like  a  lonely  walk,"  I 
went  on,  "  at  the  end  of  a  day  full  of  people :  it's 
always,  to  me,  on  such  occasions,  quite  as  if  some- 
thing has  happened  that  the  mind  wants  to  catch 
and  fix  before  the  vividness  fades.  So  I  mope  by 
myself  an  hour — I  take  stock  of  my  impressions. 
But  there's  one  thing  I  don't  believe  you  know. 
This  is  the  very  first  time,  in  such  a  place  and  at 
such  an  hour,  that  it  has  ever  befallen  me  to  come 
across  a  friend  stricken  with  the  same  perversity 
and  engaged  in  the  same  pursuit.  Most  people, 
don't  you  see?  " — I  kept  it  up  as  I  could — "  don't 
in  the  least  know  what  has  happened  to  them,  and 
don't  care  to  know.  That's  one  way,  and  I  don't 
deny  it  may  be  practically  the  best.  But  if  one  does 
care  to  know,  that's  another  way.  As  soon  as  I  saw 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

you  there  at  the  end  of  the  alley  I  said  to  myself, 
with  quite  a  little  thrill  of  elation,  '  Ah,  then  it's  her 
way  too ! '  I  wonder  if  you'll  let  me  tell  you,"  I 
floundered  pleasantly  on,  "  that  I  immediately  liked 
you  the  better  for  it.  It  seemed  to  bring  us  more 
together.  That's  what  I  sat  straight  down  here  to 
show  you.  '  Yes/  I  wished  you  to  understand  me 
as  frankly  saying,  *  I  am,  as  well  as  you,  on  the  mope, 
or  on  the  muse,  or  on  whatever  you  call  it,  and  this 
isn't  half  a  bad  corner  for  such  a  mood.'  I  can't  tell 
you  what  a  pleasure  it  is  to  me  to  see  you  do  under- 
stand." 

I  kept  it  up,  as  I  say,  to  reassure  and  soothe  and 
steady  her;  there  was  nothing,  however  fantastic 
and  born  of  the  pressure  of  the  moment,  that  I 
wouldn't  have  risked  for  that  purpose.  She  was  ab- 
solutely on  my  hands  with  her  secret — I  felt  that 
from  the  way  she  stood  and  listened  to  me,  silently 
showing  herself  relieved  and  pacified.  It  was 
marked  that  if  I  had  hitherto  seen  her  as  "  all  over 
the  place,"  she  had  yet  nowhere  seemed  to  me  less 
so  than  at  this  furthermost  point.  But  if,  though 
only  nearer  to  her  secret  and  still  not  in  possession, 
I  felt  as  justified  as  I  have  already  described  myself, 
so  it  equally  came  to  me  that  I  was  quite  near 
enough,  at  the  pass  we  had  reached,  for  what  I 
should  have  to  take  from  it  all.  She  was  on  my 
hands — it  was  she  herself,  poor  creature,  who  was : 
this  was  the  thing  that  just  now  loomed  large,  and 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

the  secret  was  a  comparative  detail.  "  I  think 
you're  very  kind,"  she  said  for  all  answer  to  the 
speech  I  have  reported,  and  the  minute  after  this 
she  had  sunk  down,  in  confessed  collapse,  to  my 
bench,  on  which  she  sat  and  stared  before  her.  The 
mere  mechanism  of  her  expression,  the  dangling 
paper  lantern  itself,  was  now  all  that  was  left  in  her 
face.  She  remained  a  little  as  if  discouraged  by  the 
sight  of  the  weariness  that  her  surrender  had  let 
out.  I  hesitated,  from  just  this  fear  of  adding  to 
it,  to  commiserate  her  for  it  more  directly,  and  she 
spoke  again  before  I  had  found  anything  to  say. 
She  brought  back  her  attention  indeed  as  if  with  an 
effort  and  from  a  distance.  "  What  is  it  that  has 
happened  to  you?  " 

"  Oh/'  I  laughed,  "  what  is  it  that  has  happened 
to  you?  "  My  question  had  not  been  in  the  least 
intended  for  pressure,  but  it  made  her  turn  and  look 
at  me,  and  this,  I  quickly  recognised,  was  all  the 
answer  the  most  pitiless  curiosity  could  have  desired 
— all  the  more,  as  well,  that  the  intention  in  it  had 
been  no  greater  than  in  my  words.  Beautiful, 
abysmal,  involuntary,  her  exquisite  weakness  sim- 
ply opened  up  the  depths  it  would  have  closed.  It 
was  in  short  a  supremely  unsuccessful  attempt  to 
say  nothing.  It  said  everything,  and  by  the  end  of 
a  minute  my  chatter — none  the  less  out  of  place  for 
being  all  audible — was  hushed  to  positive  awe  by 
what  it  had  conveyed.  I  saw  as  I  had  never  seen 

'35 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

before  what  consuming  passion  can  make  of  the 
marked  mortal  on  whom,  with  fixed  beak  and  claws, 
it  has  settled  as  on  a  prey.  She  reminded  me  of 
a  sponge  wrung  dry  and  with  fine  pores  agape. 
Voided  and  scraped  of  everything,  her  shell  was 
merely  crushable.  So  it  was  brought  home  to  me 
that  the  victim  could  be  abased,  and  so  it  disen- 
gaged itself  from  these  things  that  the  abasement 
could  be  conscious.  That  was  Mrs.  Server's  trag- 
edy, that  her  consciousness  survived — survived  with 
a  force  that  made  it  struggle  and  dissemble.  This 
consciousness  was  all  her  secret — it  was  at  any  rate 
all  mine.  I  promised  myself  roundly  that  I  would 
henceforth  keep  clear  of  any  other. 

I  none  the  less — from  simply  sitting  with  her 
there — gathered  in  the  sense  of  more  things  than 
I  could  have  named,  each  of  which,  as  it  came  to 
me,  made  my  compassion  more  tender.  Who  of  us 
all  could  say  that  his  fall  might  not  be  as  deep? — 
or  might  not  at  least  become  so  with  equal  oppor- 
tunity. I  for  a  while  fairly  forgot  Mrs.  Server,  I 
fear,  in  the  intimacy  of  this  vision  of  the  possibilities 
of  our  common  nature.  She  became  such  a  wasted 
and  dishonoured  symbol  of  them  as  might  have  put 
tears  in  one's  eyes.  When  I  presently  returned  to 
her — our  session  seeming  to  resolve  itself  into  a 
mere  mildness  of  silence — I  saw  how  it  was  that 
whereas,  in  such  cases  in  general,  people  might  have 
given  up  much,  the  sort  of  person  this  poor  lady 

136 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

was  could  only  give  up  everything.  She  was  the 
absolute  wreck  of  her  storm,  accordingly,  but  to 
which  the  pale  ghost  of  a  special  sensibility  still 
clung,  waving  from  the  mast,  with  a  bravery  that 
went  to  the  heart,  the  last  tatter  of  its  flag.  There 
are  impressions  too  fine  for  words,  and  I  shall  not 
attempt  to  say  how  it  was  that  under  the  touch  of 
this  one  I  felt  how  nothing  that  concerned  my  com- 
panion could  ever  again  be  present  to  me  but  the 
fact  itself  of  her  admirable  state.  This  was  the 
source  of  her  wan  little  glory,  constituted  even  for 
her  a  small  sublimity  in  the  light  of  which  mere 
minor  identifications  turned  vulgar.  I  knew  who 
he  was  now  with  a  vengeance,  because  I  had  learnt 
precisely  from  that  who  she  was;  and  nothing  could 
have  been  sharper  than  the  force  with  which  it 
pressed  upon  me  that  I  had  really  learnt  more  than 
I  had  bargained  for.  Nothing  need  have  happened 
if  I  hadn't  been  so  absurdly,  so  fatally  meditative 
about  poor  Long — an  accident  that  most  people, 
wiser  people,  appeared  on  the  whole  to  have  steered 
sufficiently  clear  of.  Compared  with  my  actual 
sense,  the  sense  with  which  I  sat  there,  that  other 
vision  was  gross,  and  grosser  still  the  connection 
between  the  two. 

Such  were  some  of  the  reflections  in  which  I  in- 
dulged while  her  eyes — with  their  strange  intermis- 
sions of  darkness  or  of  light:  who  could  say  which? 
— told  me  from  time  to  time  that  she  knew  whatever 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  was  thinking  of  to  be  for  her  virtual  advantage. 
It  was  prodigious  what,  in  the  way  of  suppressed 
communication,  passed  in  these  wonderful  minutes 
between  us.  Our  relation  could  be  at  the  best  but 
an  equal  confession,  and  I  remember  saying  to  my- 
self that  if  she  had  been  as  subtle  as  I — which  she 
wasn't ! — she  too  would  have  put  it  together  that  I 
had  dreadfully  talked  about  her.  She  would  have 
traced  in  me  my  demonstration  to  Mrs.  Briss  that, 
whoever  she  was,  she  must  logically  have  been 
idiotised.  It  was  the  special  poignancy  of  her  col- 
lapse that,  so  far  at  least  as  I  was  concerned,  this  was 
a  ravage  the  extent  of  which  she  had  ceased  to  try  to 
conceal.  She  had  been  trying,  and  more  or  less 
succeeding,  all  day:  the  little  drama  of  her  public 
unrest  had  had,  when  one  came  to  consider,  no 
other  argument.  It  had  been  terror  that  had  di- 
rected her  steps;  the  need  constantly  to  show  her- 
self detached  and  free,  followed  by  the  sterner  one 
not  to  show  herself,  by  the  same  token,  limp  and 
empty.  This  had  been  the  distinct,  ferocious  logic 
of  her  renewals  and  ruptures — the  anxious  mistrust 
of  her  wit,  the  haunting  knowledge  of  the  small  dis- 
tance it  would  take  her  at  once,  the  consequent  im- 
portance of  her  exactly  timing  herself,  and  the 
quick  instinct  of  flight  before  the  menace  of  discov- 
ery. She  couldn't  let  society  alone,  because  that 
would  have  constituted  a  symptom;  yet,  for  fear  of 
the  appearance  of  a  worse  one,  she  could  only  min- 

138 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

gle  in  it  with  a  complex  diplomacy.  She  was  ac- 
cordingly exposed  on  every  side,  and  to  be  with 
her  a  while  thus  quietly  was  to  read  back  into  her 
behaviour  the  whole  explanation,  which  was  posi- 
tively simple  to  me  now.  To  take  up  again  the 
vivid  analogy,  she  had  been  sailing  all  day,  though 
scarce  able  to  keep  afloat,  under  the  flag  of  her  old 
reputation  for  easy  response.  She  had  given  to  the 
breeze  any  sad  scrap  of  a  substitute  for  the  play  of 
mind  once  supposed  remarkable.  The  last  of  all 
the  things  her  stillness  said  to  me  was  that  I  could 
judge  from  so  poor  a  show  what  had  become  of  her 
conversability.  What  I  did  judge  was  that  a  frantic 
art  had  indeed  been  required  to  make  her  pretty 
silences  pass,  from  one  crisis  to  another,  for  pretty 
speeches.  Half  this  art,  doubtless,  was  the  glitter- 
ing deceit  of  her  smile,  the  sublime,  pathetic  over- 
done geniality  which  represented  so  her  share  in 
any  talk  that,  every  other  eloquence  failing,  there 
could  only  be  nothing  at  all  from  the  moment  it 
abandoned  its  office.  There  was  nothing  at  all. 
That  was  the  truth;  in  accordance  with  which  I 
finally — for  everything  it  might  mean  to  myself — 
put  out  my  hand  and  bore  ever  so  gently  on  her 
own.  Her  own  rested  listlessly  on  the  stone  of  our 
seat.  Of  course,  it  had  been  an  immense  thing  for 
her  that  she  was,  in  spite  of  everything,  so  lovely. 

All  this  was  quite  consistent  with  its  eventually 
coming  back  to  me  that,  though  she  took  from  me 

139 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

with  appreciation  what  was  expressed  in  the  gesture 
I  have  noted,  it  was  certainly  in  quest  of  a  still 
deeper  relief  that  she  had  again  come  forth.  The 
more  I  considered  her  face — and  most  of  all,  so  per- 
mittedly,  in  her  passive,  conscious  presence — the 
more  I  was  sure  of  this  and  the  further  I  could  go 
in  the  imagination  of  her  beautiful  duplicity.  I 
ended  by  divining  that  if  I  was  assuredly  good  for 
her,  because  the  question  of  keeping  up  with  me 
had  so  completely  dropped,  and  if  the  service  I  so 
rendered  her  was  not  less  distinct  to  her  than  to 
myself — I  ended  by  divining  that  she  had  none  the 
less  her  obscure  vision  of  a  still  softer  ease.  Guy 
Brissenden  had  become  in  these  few  hours  her  posi- 
tive need — a  still  greater  need  than  I  had  lately 
amused  myself  with  making  out  that  he  had  found 
her.  Each  had,  by  their  unprecedented  plight, 
something  for  the  other,  some  intimacy  of  unspeak- 
able confidence,  that  no  one  else  in  the  world  couid 
have  for  either.  They  had  been  feeling  their  way 
to  it,  but  at  the  end  of  their  fitful  day  they  had  grown 
confusedly,  yet  beneficently  sure.  The  explanation 
here  again  was  simple — they  had  the  sense  of  a  com- 
mon fate.  They  hadn't  to  name  it  or  to  phrase  it — 
possibly  even  couldn't  had  they  tried;  peace  and 
support  came  to  them,  without  that,  in  the  simple 
revelation  of  each  other.  Oh,  how  I  made  it  out 
that  if  it  was  indeed  very  well  for  the  poor  lady  to 
feel  thus  in  my  company  that  her  burden  was  lifted, 

140 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

my  company  would  be  after  all  but  a  rough  substi- 
tute for  Guy's!  He  was  a  still  better  friend,  little 
as  he  could  have  told  the  reason;  and  if  I  could  in 
this  connection  have  put  the  words  into  her  mouth, 
here  follows  something  of  the  sense  that  I  should 
have  made  them  form. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  man,  I  do  understand  you — quite 
perfectly  now,  and  (by  I  know  not  what  miracle) 
I've  really  done  so  to  some  extent  from  the  first. 
Deep  is  the  rest  of  feeling  with  you,  in  this  way, 
that  I'm  watched,  for  the  time,  only  as  you  watch 
me.  It  has  all  stopped,  and  /  can  stop.  How  can 
I  make  you  understand  what  it  is  for  me  that  there 
isn't  at  last  a  creature  any  more  in  sight,  that  the 
wood  darkens  about  me,  that  the  sounds  drop  and 
the  relief  goes  on;  what  can  it  mean  for  you  even 
that  I've  given  myself  up  to  not  caring  whether  or 
no,  amongst  others,  I'm  missed  and  spoken  of?  It 
does  help  my  strange  case,  in  fine,  as  you  see,  to 
let  you  keep  me  here;  but  I  should  have  found  still 
more  what  I  was  in  need  of  if  I  had  only  found,  in- 
stead of  you,  him  whom  I  had  in  mind.  He  is  as 
much  better  than  you  as  you  are  than  everyone 
else."  I  finally  felt,  in  a  word,  so  qualified  to  attrib- 
ute to  my  companion  some  such  mute  address  as 
that,  that  it  could  only  have,  as  the  next  conse- 
quence, a  determining  effect  on  me — an  effect 
under  the  influence  of  which  I  spoke.  "  I  parted 
with  him,  some  way  from  here,  some  time  ago.  I 

141 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

had  found  him  in  one  of  the  gardens  with  Lady 
John;  after  which  we  came  away  from  her  together. 
We  strolled  a  little  and  talked,  but  I  knew  what  he 
really  wanted.  He  wanted  to  find  you,  and  I  told 
him  he  would  probably  do  so  at  tea  on  the  terrace. 
It  was  visibly  with  that  idea — to  return  to  the  house 
—that  he  left  me." 

She  looked  at  me  for  some  time  on  this,  taking 
it  in,  yet  still  afraid  of  it.  "  You  found  him  with 
Lady  John?  "  she  at  last  asked,  and  with  a  note  in 
her  voice  that  made  me  see  what — as  there  was  a 
precaution  I  had  neglected — she  feared. 

The  perception  of  this,  in  its  turn,  operated  with 
me  for  an  instant  almost  as  the  rarest  of  temptations. 
I  had  puzzled  out  everything  and  put  everything  to- 
gether; I  was  as  morally  confident  and  as  intellect- 
ually triumphant  as  I  have  frankly  here  described 
myself;  but  there  was  no  objective  test  to  which  I 
had  yet  exposed  my  theory.  The  chance  to  apply 
one  —  and  it  would  be  infallible  —  had  suddenly 
cropped  up.  There  would  be  excitement,  amuse- 
ment, discernment  in  it;  it  would  be  indeed  but  a 
more  roundabout  expression  of  interest  and  sym- 
pathy. It  would,  above  all,  pack  the  question  I  had 
for  so  many  hours  been  occupied  with  into  the  com- 
pass of  a  needle-point.  I  was  dazzled  by  my  op- 
portunity. She  had  had  an  uncertainty,  in  other 
words,  as  to  whom  I  meant,  and  that  it  kept  her  for 
some  seconds  on  the  rack  was  a  trifle  compared  to 

142 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

my  chance.  She  would  give  herself  away  supreme- 
ly if  she  showed  she  suspected  me  of  placing  my 
finger  on  the  spot — if  she  understood  the  person  I 
had  not  named  to  be  nameable  as  Gilbert  Long. 
What  had  created  her  peril,  of  course,  was  my  nam- 
ing Lady  John.  Well,  how  can  I  say  in  any  suffi- 
cient way  how  much  the  extraordinary  beauty  of 
her  eyes  during  this  brevity  of  suspense  had  to  do 
with  the  event?  It  had  everything — for  it  was 
what  caused  me  to  be  touched  beyond  even  what  I 
had  already  been,  and  I  could  literally  bear  no  more 
of  that.  I  therefore  took  no  advantage,  or  took 
only  the  advantage  I  had  spoken  with  the  intention 
of  taking.  I  laughed  out  doubtless  too  nervously, 
but  it  didn't  compromise  my  tact.  "  Don't  you 
know  how  she's  perpetually  pouncing  on  him?  " 

Still,  however,  I  had  not  named  him — which  was 
what  prolonged  the  tension.  "  Do  you  mean — a — 

do  you  mean ?  "  With  which  she  broke  off  on 

a  small  weak  titter  and  a  still  weaker  exclamation. 
"  There  are  so  many  gentlemen !  " 

There  was  something  in  it  that  might  in  other 
conditions  have  been  as  trivial  as  the  giggle  of  a 
housemaid;  but  it  had  in  fact  for  my  ear  the  silver 
ring  of  poetry.  I  told  her  instantly  whom  I  meant. 
"  Poor  Briss,  you  know,"  I  said,  "  is  always  in  her 
clutches." 

Oh,  how  it  let  her  off !  And  yet,  no  sooner  had 
it  done  so  and  had  I  thereby  tasted  on  the  instant  the 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

sweetness  of  my  wisdom,  than  I  became  aware  of 
something  much  more  extraordinary.  It  let  her  off 
— she  showed  me  this  for  a  minute,  in  spite  of  her- 
self; but  the  next  minute  she  showed  me  something 
quite  different,  which  was,  most  wonderful  of  all, 
that  she  wished  me  to  see  her  as  not  quite  feeling 
why  I  should  so  much  take  for  granted  the  person 
I  had  named.  "  Poor  Briss?  "  her  face  and  manner 
appeared  suddenly  to  repeat — quite,  moreover  (and 
it  was  the  drollest,  saddest  part),  as  if  all  our  friends 
had  stood  about  us  to  listen.  Wherein  did  poor 
Briss  so  intimately  concern  her?  What,  pray,  was 
my  ground  for  such  free  reference  to  poor  Briss? 
She  quite  repudiated  poor  Briss.  She  knew  noth- 
ing at  all  about  him,  and  the  whole  airy  structure 
I  had  erected  with  his  aid  might  have  crumbled  at 
the  touch  she  thus  administered  if  its  solidity  had 
depended  only  on  that.  I  had  a  minute  of  surprise 
which,  had  it  lasted  another  minute  as  surprise  pure 
and  simple,  might  almost  as  quickly  have  turned  to 
something  like  chagrin.  Fortunately  it  turned  in- 
stead into  something  even  more  like  enthusiasm 
than  anything  I  had  yet  felt.  The  stroke  was  ex- 
traordinary, but  extraordinary  for  its  nobleness.  I 
quickly  saw  in  it,  from  the  moment  I  had  got  my 
point  of  view,  more  fine  things  than  ever.  I  saw 
for  instance  that,  magnificently,  she  wished  not  to 
incriminate  him.  All  that  had  passed  between  us 
had  passed  in  silence,  but  it  was  a  different  matter 

144 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

for  what  might  pass  in  sound.  We  looked  at  each 
other  therefore  with  a  strained  smile  over  any  ques- 
tion of  identities.  It  was  as  if  it  had  been  one 
thing — to  her  confused,  relaxed  intensity — to  give 
herself  up  to  me,  but  quite  another  thing  to  give  up 
somebody  else. 

And  yet,  superficially  arrested  as  I  was  for  the 
time,  I  directly  afterwards  recognised  in  this  instinc- 
tive discrimination — the  last,  the  expiring  struggle 
of  her  native  lucidity — a  supremely  convincing  bit 
of  evidence.  It  was  still  more  convincing  than  if  she 
had  done  any  of  the  common  things — stammered, 
changed  colour,  shown  an  apprehension  of  what  the 
person  named  might  have  said  to  me.  She  had  had 
it  from  me  that  he  and  I  had  talked  about  her,  but 
there  was  nothing  that  she  accepted  the  idea  of  his 
having  been  able  to  say.  I  saw — still  more  than 
this — that  there  was  nothing  to  my  purpose  (since 
my  purpose  was  to  understand)  that  she  would  have 
had,  as  matters  stood,  coherence  enough  to  impute 
to  him.  It  was  extremely  curious  to  me  to  divine, 
just  here,  that  she  hadn't  a  glimmering  of  the  real 
logic  of  Brissenden's  happy  effect  on  her  nerves. 
It  was  the  effect,  as  coming  from  him,  that  a  beauti- 
ful delicacy  forbade  her  as  yet  to  give  me  her  word 
for;  and  she  was  certainly  herself  in  the  stage  of 
regarding  it  as  an  anomaly.  Why,  on  the  contrary, 
I  might  have  wondered,  shouldn't  she  have  jumped 
at  the  chance,  at  the  comfort,  of  seeing  a  preference 

MS 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

trivial  enough  to  be  "  worked  "  imputed  to  her? 
Why  shouldn't  she  have  been  positively  pleased  that 
people  might  helpfully  couple  her  name  with  that 
of  the  wrong  man?  Why,  in  short,  in  the  lan- 
guage that  Grace  Brissenden  and  I  had  used  to- 
gether, was  not  that  lady's  husband  the  perfection 
of  a  red  herring?  Just  because,  I  perceived,  the  re- 
lation that  had  established  itself  between  them  was, 
for  its  function,  a  real  relation,  the  relation  of  a  fel- 
lowship in  resistance  to  doom. 

Nothing  could  have  been  stranger  than  for  me  so 
to  know  it  was  while  the  stricken  parties  themselves 
were  in  ignorance;  but  nothing,  at  the  same  time, 
could  have  been,  as  I  have  since  made  out,  more 
magnanimous  than  Mrs.  Server's  attitude.  She 
moved,  groping  and  panting,  in  the  gathering  dusk 
of  her  fate,  but  there  were  calculations  she  still  could 
dimly  make.  One  of  these  was  that  she  must  drag 
no  one  else  in.  I  verily  believe  that,  for  that  mat- 
ter, she  had  scruples,  poignant  and  exquisite,  even 
about  letting  our  friend  himself  see  how  much  she 
liked  to  be  with  him.  She  wouldn't,  at  all  events, 
let  another  see.  I  saw  what  I  saw,  I  felt  what  I  felt, 
but  such  things  were  exactly  a  sign  that  I  could 
take  care  of  myself.  There  was  apparently,  I  was 
obliged  to  admit,  but  little  apprehension  in  her  of 
her  unduly  showing  that  our  meeting  had  been  any- 
thing of  a  blessing  to  her.  There  was  no  one  in- 
deed just  then  to  be  the  wiser  for  it;  I  might  perhaps 

146 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

else  even  have  feared  that  she  would  have  been  in- 
fluenced to  treat  the  incident  as  closed.  I  had,  for 
that  matter,  no  wish  to  prolong  it  beyond  her  own 
convenience;  it  had  already  told  me  everything  it 
could  possibly  tell.  I  thought  I  knew  moreover 
what  she  would  have  got  from  it.  I  preferred,  none 
the  less,  that  we  should  separate  by  my  own  act;  I 
wanted  not  to  see  her  move  in  order  to  be  free  of 
me.  So  I  stood  up,  to  put  her  more  at  her  ease, 
and  it  was  while  I  remained  before  her  that  I  tried 
to  turn  to  her  advantage  what  I  had  committed 
myself  to  about  Brissenden. 

"  I  had  a  fancy,  at  any  rate,  that  he  was  looking 
for  you — all  the  more  that  he  didn't  deny  it." 

She  had  not  moved;  she  had  let  me  take  my  hand 
from  her  own  with  as  little  sign  as  on  her  first  feel- 
ing its  touch.  She  only  kept  her  eyes  on  me. 
"  What  made  you  have  such  a  fancy?  " 

"What  makes  me  ever  have  any?"  I  laughed. 
"  My  extraordinary  interest  in  my  fellow-creatures. 
I  have  more  than  most  men.  I've  never  really  seen 
anyone  with  half  so  much.  That  breeds  observa- 
tion, and  observation  breeds  ideas.  Do  you  know 
what  it  has  done?  "  I  continued.  "  It  has  bred 
for  me  the  idea  that  Brissenden's  in  love  with 
you." 

There  was  something  in  her  eyes  that  struck  me 
as  betraying — and  the  appeal  of  it  went  to  the  heart 
— the  constant  dread  that  if  entangled  in  talk  she 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

might  show  confusion.  Nevertheless  she  brought 
out  after  a  moment,  as  naturally  and  charmingly  as 
possible :  "  How  can  that  be  when  he's  so  strik- 
ingly in  love  with  his  wife?  " 

I  gave  her  the  benefit  of  the  most  apparent  con- 
sideration. "  Strikingly,  you  call  it?  " 

"  Why,  I  thought  it  was  noticed — what  he  does 
for  her." 

"  Well,  of  course  she's  extremely  handsome — or 
at  least  extremely  fresh  and  attractive.  He  is  in 
love  with  her,  no  doubt,  if  you  take  it  by  the  quarter, 
or  by  the  year,  like  a  yacht  or  a  stable,"  I  pushed  on 
at  random.  "  But  isn't  there  such  a  state  also  as 
being  in  love  by  the  day?  " 

She  waited,  and  I  guessed  from  the  manner  of  it 
exactly  why.  It  was  the  most  obscure  of  intima- 
tions that  she  would  have  liked  better  that  I 
shouldn't  make  her  talk;  but  obscurity,  by  this  time, 
offered  me  no  more  difficulties.  The  hint,  none  the 
less,  a  trifle  disconcerted  me,  and,  while  I  vaguely 
sought  for  some  small  provisional  middle  way  be- 
tween going  and  not  going  on,  the  oddest  thing,  as 
a  fruit  of  my  own  delay,  occurred.  This  was  neither 
more  nor  less  than  the  revival  of  her  terrible  little 
fixed  smile.  It  came  back  as  if  with  an  audible 
click — as  a  gas-burner  makes  a  pop  when  you  light 
it.  It  told  me  visibly  that  from  the  moment  she 
must  talk  she  could  talk  only  with  its  aid.  The 
effect  of  its  aid  I  indeed  immediately  perceived. 

148 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"How  do  I  know?"  she  asked  in  answer  to  my 
question.     "  I've  never  been  in  love." 

"  Not  even  by  the  day?" 

"  Oh,  a  day's  surely  a  long  time." 

"  It  is,"  I  returned.  "  But  I've  none  the  less, 
more  fortunately  than  you,  been  in  love  for  a  whole 
one."  Then  I  continued,  from  an  impulse  of  which 
I  had  just  become  conscious  and  that  was  clear- 
ly the  result  of  the  heart-breaking  facial  contortion 
— heart-breaking,  that  is,  when  one  knew  what  I 
knew — by  which  she  imagined  herself  to  represent 
the  pleasant  give-and-take  of  society.  This  sense, 
for  me,  was  a  quick  horror  of  forcing  her,  in  such 
conditions,  to  talk  at  all.  Poor  Briss  had  men- 
tioned to  me,  as  an  incident  of  his  contact  with  her, 
his  apprehension  of  her  breaking  down;  and  now, 
at  a  touch,  I  saw  what  he  had  meant.  She  would 
break  down  if  I  didn't  look  out.  I  found  myself 
thus,  from  one  minute  to  the  other,  as  greatly  dread- 
ing it  for  her,  dreading  it  indeed  for  both  of  us,  as 
I  might  have  dreaded  some  physical  accident  or 
danger,  her  fall  from  an  unmanageable  horse  or  the 
crack  beneath  her  of  thin  ice.  It  was  impossible — 
that  was  the  extraordinary  impression — to  come 
too  much  to  her  assistance.  We  had  each  of  us  all,  * 
in  our  way,  hour  after  hour,  been,  as  goodnaturedly 
as  unwittingly,  giving  her  a  lift;  yet  what  was  the 
end  of  it  but  her  still  sitting  there  to  assure  me  of  a 
state  of  gratitude — that  she  couldn't  even  articu- 

149 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

late — for  every  hint  of  a  perch  that  might  still  be 
held  out?  What  could  only,  therefore,  in  the  con- 
nection, strike  me  as  indicated  was  fairly  to  put  into 
her  mouth — if  one  might  do  so  without  showing 
too  ungracefully  as  alarmed — the  words  one  might 
have  guessed  her  to  wish  to  use  were  she  able  to  use 
any.  It  was  a  small  service  of  anticipation  that  I 
tried  to  render  her  with  as  little  of  an  air  as  possible 
of  being  remedial.  "  I  daresay  you  wonder,"  I  re- 
marked on  these  lines,  "  why,  at  all,  I  should  have 
thrust  Brissenden  in." 

"  Oh,  I  do  so  wonder ! "  she  replied  with  the  re- 
fined but  exaggerated  glee  that  is  a  frequent  form 
in  high  companies  and  light  colloquies.  I  did  help 
her — it  was  admirable  to  feel  it.  She  liked  my  im- 
posing on  her  no  more  complex  a  proposition.  She 
liked  my  putting  the  thing  to  her  so  much  better 
than  she  could  have  put  it  to  me.  But  she  immedi- 
ately afterwards  looked  away  as  if — now  that  we 
had  put  it,  and  it  didn't  matter  which  of  us  best — 
we  had  nothing  more  to  do  with  it.  She  gave  me 
a  hint  of  drops  and  inconsequences  that  might  in- 
deed have  opened  up  abysses,  and  all  the  while  she 
smiled  and  smiled.  Yet  whatever  she  did  or  failed 
of,  as  I  even  then  observed  to  myself,  how  she  re- 
mained lovely!  One's  pleasure  in  that  helped  one 
somehow  not  to  break  down  on  one's  own  side 
— since  breaking  down  was  in  question — for  com- 
miseration. I  didn't  know  what  she  might  have 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

hours  of  for  the  man — whoever  he  was — to  whom 
her  sacrifice  had  been  made;  but  I  doubted  if  for 
any  other  person  she  had  ever  been  so  beautiful  as 
she  was  for  me  at  these  moments.  To  have  kept 
her  so,  to  have  made  her  more  so — how  might  that 
result  of  their  relation  not  in  fact  have  shone  as  a 
blinding  light  into  the  eyes  of  her  lover?  What 
would  he  have  been  bound  to  make  out  in  her  after 
all  but  her  passion  and  her  beauty?  Wasn't  it 
enough  for  such  wonders  as  these  to  fill  his  con- 
sciousness? If  they  didn't  fill  mine — even  though 
occupying  so  large  a  place  in  it — was  that  not  only 
because  I  had  not  the  direct  benefit  of  them  as  the 
other  party  to  the  prodigy  had  it?  They  filled  mine 
too,  for  that  matter,  just  at  this  juncture,  long 
enough  for  me  to  describe  myself  as  rendered  sub- 
ject by  them  to  a  temporary  loss  of  my  thread. 
What  could  pass  muster  with  her  as  an  account  of 
my  reason  for  evoking  the  blighted  identity  of  our 
friend?  There  came  constantly  into  her  aspect,  I 
should  say,  the  strangest  alternatives,  as  I  can  only 
most  conveniently  call  them,  of  presence  and  ab- 
sence— something  .like  intermissions  of  intensity, 
cessations  and  resumptions  of  life.  They  were  like 
the  slow  flickers  of  a  troubled  flame,  breathed  upon 
and  then  left,  burning  up  and  burning  down.  She 
had  really  burnt  down — I  mean  so  far  as  her  sense 
of  things  went — while  I  stood  there. 

I  stood  long  enough  to  see  that  it  didn't  in  the 
15* 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

least  signify  whether  or  no  I  explained,  and  during 
this  interval  I  found  myself — to  my  surprise — in 
receipt  of  still  better  assistance  than  any  I  had  to 
give.  I  had  happened  to  turn,  while  I  awkwardly 
enough,  no  doubt,  rested  and  shifted,  to  the  quarter 
from  which  Mrs.  Server  had  arrived;  and  there,  just 
at  the  end  of  the  same  vista,  I  gathered  material  for 
my  proper  reply.  Her  eyes  at  this  moment  were 
fixed  elsewhere,  and  that  gave  me  still  a  little  more 
time,  at  the  end  of  which  my  reference  had  all  its 
point.  "  I  supposed  you  to  have  Brissenden  in 
your  head,"  I  said,  "  because  it's  evidently  what  he 
himself  takes  for  granted.  But  let  him  tell  you !  " 
He  was  already  close  to  us:  missing  her  at  the 
house,  he  had  started  again  in  search  of  her  and 
had  successfully  followed.  The  effect  on  him  of 
coming  in  sight  of  us  had  been  for  an  instant  to 
make  him  hang  back  as  I  had  seen  Mrs.  Server 
hang.  But  he  had  then  advanced  just  as  she  had 
done;  I  had  waited  for  him  to  reach  us;  and  now 
she  saw  him.  She  looked  at  him  as  she  always 
looked  at  all  of  us,  yet  not  at  either  of  us  as  if  we 
had  lately  been  talking  of  him.  .  If  it  was  vacancy 
it  was  eloquent;  if  it  was  vigilance  it  was  splendid. 
What  was  most  curious,  at  all  events,  was  that  it 
was  now  poor  Briss  who  was  disconcerted.  He 
had  counted  on  finding  her,  but  not  on  finding  her 
with  me,  and  I  interpreted  a  certain  ruefulness  in 
him  as  the  sign  of  a  quick,  uneasy  sense  that  he 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

must  have  been  in  question  between  us.  I  instant- 
ly felt  that  the  right  thing  was  to  let  him  know  he 
had  been,  and  I  mentioned  to  him,  as  a  joke,  that 
he  had  come  just  in  time  to  save  himself.  We  had 
been  talking  of  him,  and  I  wouldn't  answer  for  what 
Mrs.  Server  had  been  going  to  say.  He  took  it 
gravely,  but  he  took  everything  so  gravely  that  I 
saw  no  symptom  in  that.  In  fact,  as  he  appeared 
at  first  careful  not  to  meet  my  eyes,  I  saw  for  a  min- 
ute or  two  no  symptom  in  anything — in  anything, 
at  least,  but  the  way  in  which,  standing  beside  me 
and  before  Mrs.  Server's  bench,  he  received  the  con- 
scious glare  of  her  recognition  without  returning 
it  and  without  indeed  giving  her  a  look.  He 
looked  all  about — looked,  as  she  herself  had  done 
after  our  meeting,  at  the  charming  place  and  its 
marks  of  the  hour,  at  the  rich  twilight,  deeper  now 
in  the  avenues,  and  at  the  tree-tops  and  sky,  more 
flushed  now  with  colour.  I  found  myself  of  a  sud- 
den quite  as  sorry  for  him  as  I  had  been  for  Mrs. 
Server,  and  I  scarce  know  how  it  was  suggested 
to  me  that  during  the  short  interval  since  our  sep- 
aration something  had  happened  that  made  a  differ- 
ence in  him.  Was  the  difference  a  consciousness 
still  more  charged  than  I  had  left  it?  I  couldn't 
exactly  say,  and  the  question  really  lost  itself  in 
what  soon  came  uppermost  for  me — the  desire, 
above  all,  to  spare  them  both  and  to  spare  them 
equally. 

'S3 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

The  difficulty,  however,  was  to  spare  them  in 
some  fashion  that  would  not  be  more  marked  than 
continuing  to  observe  them.  To  leave  them  to- 
gether without  a  decent  pretext  would  be  marked; 
but  this,  I  eagerly  recognised,  was  none  the  less 
what  most  concerned  me.  Whatever  they  might 
see  in  it,  there  was  by  this  time  little  enough  doubt 
of  how  it  would  indicate  for  my  own  mind  that  the 
wheel  had  completely  turned.  That  was  the  point 
to  which  I  had  been  brought  by  the  lapse  of  a  few 
hours.  I  had  verily  travelled  far  since  the  sight 
of  the  pair  on  the  terrace  had  given  its  arrest  to 
my  first  talk  with  Mrs.  Briss.  I  was  obliged  to  ad- 
mit to  myself  that  nothing  could  very  well  have 
been  more  singular  than  some  of  my  sequences.  I 
had  come  round  to  the  opposite  pole  of  the  protest 
my  companion  had  then  drawn  from  me — which 
was  the  pole  of  agreement  with  herself;  and  it  hung 
sharply  before  me  that  I  was  pledged  to  confess  to 
her  my  revolution.  I  couldn't  now  be  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  two  creatures  I  was  in  the  very  act  of 
finally  judging  to  be  not  a  whit  less  stricken  than 
I  had  originally  imagined  them — I  couldn't  do  this 
and  think  with  any  complacency  of  the  redemption 
of  my  pledge;  for  the  process  by  which  I  had  at  last 
definitely  inculpated  Mrs.  Server  was  precisely  such 
a  process  of  providential  supervision  as  made  me 
morally  responsible,  so  to  speak,  for  her,  and  there- 
by intensified  my  scruples.  Well,  my  scruples  had 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

the  last  word — they  were  what  determined  me  to 
look  at  my  watch  and  profess  that,  whatever  sense 
of  a  margin  Brissenden  and  Mrs.  Server  might  still 
enjoy,  it  behoved  me  not  to  forget  that  I  took,  on 
such  great  occasions,  an  hour  to  dress  for  dinner. 
It  was  a  fairly  crude  cover  for  my  retreat;  perhaps 
indeed  I  should  rather  say  that  my  retreat  was  prac- 
tically naked  and  unadorned.  It  formulated  their 
relation.  I  left  them  with  the  formula  on  their 
hands,  both  queerly  staring  at  it,  both  uncertain 
what  to  do  with  it.  For  some  passage  that  would 
soon  be  a  correction  of  this,  however,  one  might 
surely  feel  that  one  could  trust  them.  I  seemed  to 
feel  my  trust  justified,  behind  my  back,  before  I  had 
got  twenty  yards  away.  By  the  time  I  had  done 
this,  I  must  add,  something  further  had  befallen  me. 
Poor  Briss  had  met  my  eyes  just  previous  to  my 
flight,  and  it  was  then  I  satisfied  myself  of  what  had 
happened  to  him  at  the  house.  He  had  met  his 
wife;  she  had  in  some  way  dealt  with  him;  he  had 
been  with  her,  however  briefly,  alone;  and  the  in- 
timacy of  their  union  had  been  afresh  impressed 
upon  him.  Poor  Briss,  in  fine,  looked  ten  years 
older. 


'55 


IX 


T  SHALL  never  forget  the  impressions  of  that 
-*•  evening,  nor  the  way,  in  particular,  the  im- 
mediate effect  of  some  of  them  was  to  merge  the 
light  of  my  extravagant  perceptions  in  a  glamour 
much  more  diffused.  I  remember  feeling  seriously 
warned,  while  dinner  lasted,  not  to  yield  further  to 
my  idle  habit  of  reading  into  mere  human  things 
an  interest  so  much  deeper  than  mere  human  things 
were  in  general  prepared  to  supply.  This  especial 
hour,  at  Newmarch,  had  always  a  splendour  that 
asked  little  of  interpretation,  that  even  carried  itself, 
with  an  amiable  arrogance,  as  indifferent  to  what 
the  imagination  could  do  for  it.  I  think  the  imagi- 
nation, in  those  halls  of  art  and  fortune,  was  almost 
inevitably  accounted  a  poor  matter;  the  whole  place 
and  its  participants  abounded  so  in  pleasantness 
and  picture,  in  all  the  felicities,  for  every  sense,  taken 
for  granted  there  by  the  very  basis  of  life,  that  even 
the  sense  most  finely  poetic,  aspiring  to  extract  the 
moral,  could  scarce  have  helped  feeling  itself  treated 
to  something  of  the  snub  that  affects — when  it  does 
affect — the  uninvited  reporter  in  whose  face  a  door 
is  closed.  I  said  to  myself  during  dinner  that  these 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

were  scenes  in  which  a  transcendent  intelligence 
had  after  all  no  application,  and  that,  in  short,  any 
preposterous  acuteness  might  easily  suffer  among 
them  such  a  loss  of  dignity  as  overtakes  the  news- 
paper-man kicked  out.  We  existed,  all  of  us  to- 
gether, to  be  handsome  and  happy,  to  be  really 
what  we  looked — since  we  looked  tremendously 
well;  to  be  that  and  neither  more  nor  less,  so  not 
discrediting  by  musty  secrets  and  aggressive  doubts 
our  high  privilege  of  harmony  and  taste.  We  were 
concerned  only  with  what  was  bright  and  open,  and 
the  expression  that  became  us  all  was,  at  worst,  that 
of  the  shaded  but  gratified  eye,  the  air  of  being  for- 
givingly dazzled  by  too  much  lustre. 

Mrs.  Server,  at  table,  was  out  of  my  range,  but 
I  wondered  if,  had  she  not  been  so,  I  shouldn't  now 
have  been  moved  to  recognise  in  her  fixed  expres- 
siveness nothing  more  than  our  common  reciprocal 
tribute.  Hadn't  everyone  my  eyes  could  at  present 
take  in  a  fixed  expressiveness?  Was  I  not  very 
possibly  myself,  on  this  ground  of  physiognomic 
congruity,  more  physiognomic  than  anyone  else? 
I  made  my  excellence,  on  the  chance,  go  as  far  as 
it  would  to  cover  my  temporary  doubts.  I  saw 
Mrs.  Brissenden,  in  another  frock,  naturally,  and 
other  jewels  from  those  of  the  evening  before;  but 
she  gave  me,  across  the  board,  no  more  of  a  look 
than  if  she  had  quite  done  with  me.  It  struck  me 
that  she  felt  she  had  done — that,  as  to  the  subject 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

of  our  discussion,  she  deemed  her  case  by  this  time 
so  established  as  to  offer  comparatively  little  inter- 
est. I  couldn't  come  to  her  to  renew  the  discus- 
sion; I  could  only  come  to  her  to  make  my  submis- 
sion; and  it  doubtless  appeared  to  her — to  do  her 
justice — more  delicate  not  to  triumph  over  me  in 
advance.  The  profession  of  joy,  however,  reigned 
in  her  handsome  face  none  the  less  largely  for  my 
not  having  the  benefit  of  it.  If  I  seem  to  falsify 
my  generalisation  by  acknowledging  that  her  hus- 
band, on  the  same  side,  made  no  more  public  pro- 
fession of  joy  than  usual,  I  am  still  justified  by  the 
fact  that  there  was  something  in  a  manner  decora- 
tive even  in  Brissenden's  wonted  gloom.  He  re- 
minded me  at  this  hour  more  than  ever  of  some  fine 
old  Velasquez  or  other  portrait — a  presentation  of 
ugliness  and  melancholy  that  might  have  been 
royal.  There  was  as  little  of  the  common  in  his  dry, 
distinguished  patience  as  in  the  case  I  had  made  out 
for  him.  Blighted  and  ensconed,  he  looked  at  it 
over  the  rigid  convention,  his  peculiar  perfection 
of  necktie,  shirt-front  and  waistcoat,  as  some  aged 
remnant  of  sovereignty  at  the  opera  looks  over  the 
ribbon  of  an  order  and  the  ledge  of  a  box. 

I  must  add,  however,  that  in  spite  of  my  sense 
of  his  wife's  indulgence  I  kept  quite  aware  of  the 
nearer  approach,  as  course  followed  course,  of  my 
hour  of  reckoning  with  her — more  and  more  saw 
the  moment  of  the  evening  at  which,  frankly  amused 

158 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

at  last  at  having  me  in  a  cleft  stick,  she  would  draw 
me  a  little  out  of  the  throng.  Of  course,  also,  I  was 
much  occupied  in  asking  myself  to  what  degree  I 
was  prepared  to  be  perjured.  Was  I  ready  to  pre- 
tend that  my  candour  was  still  unconvinced?  And 
was  I  in  this  case  only  instinctively  mustering  my 
arguments?  I  was  certainly  as  sorry  that  Mrs.  Ser- 
ver was  out  of  my  view  as  if  I  proposed  still  to  fight; 
and  I  really  felt,  so  far  as  that  went,  as  if  there  might 
be  something  to  fight  for  after  the  lady  on  my  left 
had  given  me  a  piece  of  news.  I  had  asked  her  if 
she  happened  to  know,  as  we  couldn't  see,  who  was 
next  Mrs.  Server,  and,  though  unable  to  say  at  the 
moment,  she  made  no  scruple,  after  a  short  interval, 
of  ascertaining  with  the  last  directness.  The  stretch 
forward  in  which  she  had  indulged,  or  the  informa- 
tion she  had  caused  to  be  passed  up  to  her  while 
I  was  again  engaged  on  my  right,  established  that 
it  was  Lord  Lutley  who  had  brought  the  lovely  lady 
in  and  that  it  was  Mr.  Long  who  was  on  her  other 
side.  These  things  indeed  were  not  the  finest  point 
of  my  companion's  communication,  for  I  saw  that 
what  she  felt  I  would  be  really  interested  in  was  the 
fact  that  Mr.  Long  had  brought  in  Lady  John,  who 
was  naturally,  therefore,  his  other  neighbour.  Be- 
yond Lady  John  was  Mr.  Obert,  and  beyond  Mr. 
Obert  Mrs.  Froome,  not,  for  a  wonder,  this  time 
paired,  as  by  the  immemorial  tradition,  so  fairly 
comical  in  its  candour,  with  Lord  Lutley.  Wasn't 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

it  too  funny,  the  kind  of  grandmotherly  view  of 
their  relation  shown  in  their  always  being  put  to- 
gether? If  I  perhaps  questioned  whether  "  grand- 
motherly "  were  exactly  the  name  for  the  view, 
what  yet  at  least  was  definite  in  the  light  of  this 
evening's  arrangement  was  that  there  did  occur  oc- 
casions on  which  they  were  put  apart.  My  friend 
of  course  disposed  of  this  observation  by  the  usual 
exception  that  "proved  the  rule";  but  it  was  ab- 
surd how  I  had  thrilled  with  her  announcement,  and 
our  exchange  of  ideas  meanwhile  helped  to  carry 
me  on. 

My  theory  had  not  at  all  been  framed  to  embrace 
the  phenomenon  thus  presented;  it  had  been  pre- 
cisely framed,  on  the  contrary,  to  hang  together 
with  the  observed  inveteracy  of  escape,  on  the  part 
of  the  two  persons  about  whom  it  busied  itself,  from 
public  juxtaposition  of  more  than  a  moment.  I 
was  fairly  upset  by  the  need  to  consider  at  this  late 
hour  whether  going  in  for  a  new  theory  or  bracing 
myself  for  new  facts  would  hold  out  to  me  the  better 
refuge.  It  is  perhaps  not  too  much  to  say  that  I 
should  scarce  have  been  able  to  sit  still  at  all  but 
for  the  support  afforded  me  by  the  oddity  of  the 
separation  of  Lord  Lutley  and  Mrs.  Froome;  which, 
though  resting  on  a  general  appearance  directly  op- 
posed to  that  of  my  friends,  offered  somehow  the 
relief  of  a  suggestive  analogy.  What  I  could  di- 
rectly clutch  at  was  that  if  the  exception  did  prove 

160 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

the  rule  in  the  one  case  it  might  equally  prove  it  in 
the  other.  If  on  a  rare  occasion  one  of  these 
couples  might  be  divided,  so,  by  as  uncommon  a 
chance,  the  other  might  be  joined;  the  only  differ- 
ence being  in  the  gravity  of  the  violated  law.  For 
which  pair  was  the  betrayal  greatest?  It  was  not 
till  dinner  was  nearly  ended  and  the  ladies  were 
about  to  withdraw  that  I  recovered  lucidity  to  make 
out  how  much  more  machinery  would  have  had  to 
be  put  into  motion  consistently  to  prevent,  than 
once  in  a  way  to  minimise,  the  disconcerting  acci- 
dent. 

All  accidents,  I  must  add,  were  presently  to  lose 
themselves  in  the  unexpectedness  of  my  finding  my- 
self, before  we  left  the  dining-room,  in  easy  talk 
with  Gilbert  Long — talk  that  was  at  least  easy  for 
him,  whatever  it  might  have  struck  me  as  necessa- 
rily destined  to  be  for  me.  I  felt  as  he  approached 
me — for  he  did  approach  me — that  it  was  somehow 
"  important  ";  I  was  so  aware  that  something  in  the 
state  of  my  conscience  would  have  prevented  me 
from  assuming  conversation  between  us  to  be  at 
this  juncture  possible.  The  state  of  my  conscience 
was  that  I  knew  too  much — that  no  one  had  really 
any  business  to  know  what  I  knew.  If  he  suspected 
but  the  fiftieth  part  of  it  there  was  no  simple  spirit 
in  which  he  could  challenge  me.  It  would  have 
been  simple  of  course  to  desire  to  knock  me  down, 
but  that  was  barred  by  its  being  simple  to  excess. 

161 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

It  wouldn't  even  have  been  enough  for  him  merely 
to  ground  it  on  a  sudden  fancy.  It  fitted,  in  fine, 
with  my  cogitations  that  it  was  so  significant  for 
him  to  wish  to  speak  to  me  that  I  didn't  envy  him 
his  attempt  at  the  particular  shade  of  assurance  re- 
quired for  carrying  the  thing  off.  He  would  have 
learned  from  Mrs.  Server  that  I  was  not,  as  regarded 
them,  at  all  as  others  were;  and  thus  his  idea,  the 
fruit  of  that  stimulation,  could  only  be  either  to 
fathom,  to  felicitate,  or — as  it  were — to  destroy  me. 
What  was  at  the  same  time.obvious  was  that  no  one 
of  these  attitudes  would  go  quite  of  itself.  The 
simple  sight  of  him  as  he  quitted  his  chair  to  take 
one  nearer  my  own  brought  home  to  me  in  a  flash 
— and  much  more  than  anything  had  yet  done — 
the  real  existence  in  him  of  the  condition  it  was  my 
private  madness  (none  the  less  private  for  Grace 
Brissenden's  so  limited  glimpse'  of  it,)  to  believe  I 
had  coherently  stated.  Is  not  this  small  touch  per- 
haps the  best  example  I  can  give  of  the  intensity  of 
amusement  I  had  at  last  enabled  my  private  mad- 
ness to  yield  me?  I  found  myself  owing  it,  from 
this  time  on  and  for  the  rest  of  the  evening,  mo- 
ments of  the  highest  concentration. 

Whatever  there  might  have  been  for  me  of  pain 
or  doubt  was  washed  straight  out  by  the  special  sen- 
sation of  seeing  how  "  clever  "  poor  Long  not  only 
would  have  to  be,  but  confidently  and  actually  was; 
inasmuch  as  this  apprehension  seemed  to  put  me  in 

162 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

possession  of  his  cleverness,  besides  leaving  me  all 
my  own.  I  made  him  welcome,  I  helped  him  to 
another  cigarette,  I  felt  above  all  that  I  should  en- 
joy him;  my  response  to  his  overture  was,  in  other 
words,  quickly  enough  to  launch  us.  Yet  I  fear  I 
can  do  little  justice  to  the  pleasant  suppressed  tu- 
'mult  of  impression  and  reflection  that,  on  my  part, 
our  ten  minutes  together  produced.  The  elements 
that  mingled  in  it  scarce  admit  of  discrimination. 
It  was  still  more  than  previously  a  deep  sense  of  be- 
ing justified.  My  interlocutor  was  for  those  ten 
minutes  immeasurably  superior — superior,  I  mean, 
to  himself — and  he  couldn't  possibly  have  become 
so  save  through  the  relation  I  had  so  patiently 
tracked.  He  faced  me  there  with  another  light 
than  his  own,  spoke  with  another  sound,  thought 
with  another  ease  and  understood  with  another  ear. 
I  should  put  it  that  what  came  up  between  us  was 
the  mere  things  of  the  occasion,  were  it  not  for  the 
fine  point  to  which,  in  my  view,  the  things  of  the 
occasion  had  been  brought.  While  our  eyes,  at  all 
events,  on  either  side,  met  serenely,  and  our  talk, 
dealing  with  the  idea,  dealing  with  the  extraordi- 
nary special  charm,  of  the  social  day  now  deepening 
to  its  end,  touched  our  companions  successively, 
touched  the  manner  in  which  this  one  and  that  had 
happened  to  be  predominantly  a  part  of  that  charm; 
while  such  were  our  immediate  conditions  I  won- 
dered of  course  if  he  had  not,  just  as  consciously 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

and  essentially  as  I,  quite  another  business  in  mind. 
It  was  not  indeed  that  our  allusion  to  the  other  busi- 
ness would  not  have  been  wholly  undiscoverable  by 
a  third  person. 

So  far  as  it  took  place  it  was  of  a  "  subtlety,"  as 
we  used  to  say  at  Newmarch,  in  relation  to  which 
the  common  register  of  that  pressure  would  have 
been,  I  fear,  too  old-fashioned  a  barometer.  I  had 
moreover  the  comfort — for  it  amounted  to  that — 
of  perceiving  after  a  little  that  we  understood  each 
other  too  well  for  our  understanding  really  to  have 
tolerated  the  interference  of  passion,  such  passion 
as  would  have  been  represented  on  his  side  by  re- 
sentment of  my  intelligence  and  on  my  side  by 
resentment  of  his.  The  high  sport  of  such  intelli- 
gence— between  gentlemen,  to  the  senses  of  any 
other  than  whom  it  must  surely  be  closed — de- 
manded and  implied  in  its  own  intimate  interest  a 
certain  amenity.  Yes,  accordingly,  I  had  promptly 
got  the  answer  that  my  wonder  at  his  approach  re- 
quired :  he  had  come  to  me  for  the  high  sport.  He 
would  formerly  have  been  incapable  of  it,  and  he 
was  beautifully  capable  of  it  now.  It  was  precisely 
the  kind  of  high  sport — the  play  of  perception,  ex- 
pression, sociability — in  which  Mrs.  Server  would 
a  year  or  two  before  have  borne  as  light  a  hand.  I 
need  scarcely  add  how  little  it  would  have  found  it- 
self in  that  lady's  present  chords.  He  had  said  to 
me  in  our  ten  minutes  everything  amusing  she 

164 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

couldn't  have  said.  Yet  if  when  our  host  gave  us 
the  sign  to  adjourn  to  the  drawing-room  so  much 
as  all  this  had  grown  so  much  clearer,  I  had  still, 
figuratively  speaking,  a  small  nut  or  two  left  to 
crack.  By  the  time  we  moved  away  together,  how- 
ever, these  resistances  had  yielded.  The  answers 
had  really  only  been  waiting  for  the  questions.  The 
play  of  Long's  mind  struck  me  as  more  marked, 
since  the  morning,  by  the  same  amount,  as  it  might 
have  been  called,  as  the  march  of  poor  Briss's  age; 
and  if  I  had,  a  while  before,  in  the  wood,  had  my 
explanation  of  this  latter  addition,  so  I  had  it 
now  of  the  former — as  to  which  I  shall  presently 
give  it. 

When  music,  in  English  society,  as  we  know,  is 
not  an  accompaniment  to  the  voice,  the  voice  can 
in  general  be  counted  on  to  assert  its  pleasant  iden- 
tity as  an  accompaniment  to  music;  but  at  New- 
march  we  had  been  considerably  schooled,  and  this 
evening,  in  the  room  in  which  most  of  us  had  as- 
sembled, an  interesting  pianist,  who  had  given  a 
concert  the  night  before  at  the  near  county  town 
and  been  brought  over  during  the  day  to  dine  and 
sleep,  would  scarce  have  felt  in  any  sensitive  fibre 
that  he  was  not  having  his  way  with  us.  It  may 
just  possibly  have  been  an  hallucination  of  my  own, 
but  while  we  sat  together  after  dinner  in  a  dispersed 
circle  I  could  have  worked  it  out  that,  as  a  company, 
we  were  considerably  conscious  of  some  experience, 

165 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

greater  or  smaller  from  one  of  us  to  the  other,  that 
had  prepared  us  for  the  player's  spell.  Felicitously 
scattered  and  grouped,  we  might  in  almost  any  case 
have  had  the  air  of  looking  for  a  message  from  it — 
of  an  imagination  to  be  flattered,  nerves  to  be 
quieted,  sensibilities  to  be  soothed.  The  whole 
scene  was  as  composed  as  if  there  were  scarce  one 
of  us  but  had  a  secret  thirst  for  the  infinite  to  be 
quenched.  And  it  was  the  infinite  that,  for  the 
hour,  the  distinguished  foreigner  poured  out  to  us, 
causing  it  to  roll  in  wonderful  waves  of  sound,  al- 
most of  colour,  over  our  receptive  attitudes  and 
faces.  Each  of  us,  I  think,  now  wore  the  expres- 
sion— or  confessed  at  least  to  the  suggestion — of 
some  indescribable  thought;  which  might  well,  it 
was  true,  have  been  nothing  more  unmentionable 
than  the  simple  sense  of  how  the  posture  of  defer- 
ence to  this  noble  art  has  always  a  certain  personal 
grace  to  contribute.  We  neglected  nothing  of  it 
that  could  make  our  general  effect  ample,  and 
whether  or  no  we  were  kept  quiet  by  the  piano,  we 
were  at  least  admonished,  to  and  fro,  by  our  mutual 
visibility,  which  each  of  us  clearly  desired  to  make 
a  success.  I  have  little  doubt,  furthermore,  that  to 
each  of  us  was  due,  as  the  crown  of  our  inimitable 
day,  the  imputation  of  having  something  quite  of 
our  own  to  think  over. 

We    thought,    accordingly  —  we    continued    to 
think,  and  I  felt  that,  by  the  law  of  the  occasion, 

166 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

there  had  as  yet  been  for  everyone  no  such  sover- 
eign warrant  for  an  interest  in  the  private  affairs 
of  everyone  else.  As  a  result  of  this  influence  all 
that  at  dinner  had  begun  to  fade  away  from  me 
came  back  with  a  rush  and  hovered  there  with  a 
vividness.  I  followed  many  trains  and  put  together 
many  pieces;  but  perhaps  what  I  most  did  was  to 
render  a  fresh  justice  to  the  marvel  of  our  civilised 
state.  The  perfection  of  that,  enjoyed  as  we  en- 
joyed it,  all  made  a  margin,  a  series  of  concentric 
circles  of  rose-colour  (shimmering  away  into  the 
pleasant  vague  of  everything  else  that  didn't  mat- 
ter,) for  the  so  salient  little  figure  of  Mrs.  Server, 
still  the  controlling  image  for  me,  the  real  principle 
of  composition,  in  this  affluence  of  fine  things. 
What,  for  my  part,  while  I  listened,  I  most  made 
out  was  the  beauty  and  the  terror  of  conditions  so 
highly  organised  that  under  their  rule  her  small 
lonely  fight  with  disintegration  could  go  on  without 
the  betrayal  of  a  gasp  or  a  shriek,  and  with  no  worse 
tell-tale  contortion  of  lip  or  brow  than  the  vibration, 
on  its  golden  stem,  of  that  constantly  renewed 
flower  of  amenity  which  my  observation  had  so 
often  and  so  mercilessly  detached  only  to  find  again 
in  its  place.  This  flower  nodded  perceptibly 
enough  in  our  deeply  stirred  air,  but  there  was  a 
peace,  none  the  less,  in  feeling  the  spirit  of  the 
wearer  to  be  temporarily  at  rest.  There  was  for  the 
time  no  gentleman  on  whom  she  need  pounce,  no 

.67 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

lapse  against  which  she  need  guard,  no  presumption 
she  need  create,  nor  any  suspicion  she  need  destroy. 
In  this  pause  in  her  career  it  came  over  me  that  I 
should  have  liked  to  leave  her;  it  would  have  pre- 
pared for  me  the  pleasant  after-consciousness  that 
I  had  seen  her  pass,  as  I  might  say,  in  music  out  of 
sight. 

But  we  were,  alas !  all  too  much  there,  too  much 
tangled  and  involved  for  that;  every  actor  in  the 
play  that  had  so  unexpectedly  insisted  on  constitut- 
ing itself  for  me  sat  forth  as  with  an  intimation  that 
they  were  not  to  be  so  easily  disposed  of.  It  was 
as  if  there  were  some  last  act  to  be  performed  before 
the  curtain  could  fall.  Would  the  definite  dramatic 
signal  for  ringing  the  curtain  down  be  then  only — 
as  a  grand  climax  and  coup  de  theatre — the  due  at- 
testation that  poor  Briss  had  succumbed  to  inexor- 
able time  and  Mrs.  Server  given  way  under  a  cere- 
,bral  lesion?  Were  the  rest  of  us  to  disperse 
decorously  by  the  simple  action  of  the  discovery 
that,  on  our  pianist's  striking  his  last  note,  with  its 
consequence  of  permitted  changes  of  attitude,  Gil- 
bert Long's  victim  had  reached  the  point  of  final 
simplification  and  Grace  Brissenden's  the  limit  of 
age  recorded  of  man?  I  could  look  at  neither  of 
these  persons  without  a  sharper  sense  of  the  con- 
trast between  the  tragedy  of  their  predicament  and 
the  comedy  of  the  situation  that  did  everything  for 
them  but  suspect  it.  They  had  truly  been  arrayed 

168 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

and  anointed,  they  had  truly  been  isolated,  for  their 
sacrifice.  I  was  sufficiently  aware  even  then  that  if 
one  hadn't  known  it  one  might  have  seen  nothing; 
but  I  was  not  less  aware  that  one  couldn't  know  any- 
thing without  seeing  all;  and  so  it  was  that,  while 
our  pianist  played,  my  wandering  vision  played  and 
played  as  well.  It  took  in  again,  while  it  went  from 
one  of  them  to  the  other,  the  delicate  light  that 
each  had  shed  on  the  other,  and  it  made  me  wonder 
afresh  what  still  more  delicate  support  they  them- 
selves might  not  be  in  the  very  act  of  deriving  from 
their  dim  community.  It  was  for  the  glimmer  of 
this  support  that  I  had  left  them  together  two  or 
three  hours  before;  yet  I  was  obliged  to  recognise 
that,  travel  between  them  as  my  fancy  might,  it 
could  detect  nothing  in  the  way  of  a  consequent 
result.  I  caught  no  look  from  either  that  spoke  to 
me  of  service  rendered  them;  and  I  caught  none, 
in  particular,  from  one  of  them  to  the  other,  that  I 
could  read  as  a  symptom  of  their  having  compared 
notes.  The  fellow-feeling  of  each  for  the  lost  light 
of  the  other  remained  for  me  but  a  tie  suppositi- 
tious— the  full-blown  flower  of  my  theory.  It 
would  show  here  as  another  flower,  equally  mature, 
for  me  to  have  made  out  a  similar  dim  community 
between  Gilbert  Long  and  Mrs.  Brissenden — to  be 
able  to  figure  them  as  groping  side  by  side,  pro- 
portionately, towards  a  fellowship  of  light  over- 
taken; but  if  I  failed  of  this,  for  ideal  symmetry,  that 

169 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

seemed  to  rest  on  the  general  truth  that  joy  brings 
people  less  together  than  sorrow. 

So  much  for  the  course  of  my  impressions  while 
the  music  lasted — a  course  quite  consistent  with 
my  being  prepared  for  new  combinations  as  soon 
as  it  was  over.  Promptly,  when  that  happened, 
the  bow  was  unbent;  and  the  combination  I  first 
seized,  amid  motion  and  murmur  and  rustle,  was 
that,  once  more,  of  poor  Briss  and  Lady  John,  the 
latter  of  whom  had  already  profited  by  the  general 
reaction  to  endeavour  to  cultivate  afresh  the  vainest 
of  her  sundry  appearances.  She  had  laid  on  him 
the  same  coercive  hand  to  which  I  owed  my  having 
found  him  with  her  in  the  afternoon,  but  my  inter- 
vention was  now  to  operate  with  less  ceremony.  I 
chanced  to  be  near  enough  to  them  for  Brissenden, 
on  seeing  me,  to  fix  his  eyes  on  me  in  silence,  but 
in  a  manner  that  could  only  bring  me  immediately 
nearer.  Lady  John  never  did  anything  in  silence, 
but  she  greeted  me  as  I  came  up  to  them  with  a 
fine  false  alarm.  "  No,  indeed,"  she  cried,  "  you 
shan't  carry  him  off  this  time !  " — and  poor  Briss 
disappeared,  leaving  us  face  to  face,  even  while  she 
breathed  defiance.  He  had  made  no  joke  of  it,  and 
I  had  from  him  no  other  recognition;  it  was  there- 
fore a  mere  touch,  yet  it  gave  me  a  sensible  hint 
that  he  had  begun,  as  things  were  going,  to  depend 
upon  me,  that  I  already  in  a  fashion  figured  to  him 
— and  on  amazingly  little  evidence  after  all — as  his 

170 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

natural  protector,  his  providence,  his  effective  om- 
niscience. Like  Mrs.  Server  herself,  he  was  mate- 
rially on  my  hands,  and  it  was  proper  I  should  "  do  " 
for  him.  I  wondered  if  he  were  really  beginning 
to  look  to  me  to  avert  his  inexorable  fate.  Well, 
if  his  inexorable  fate  was  to  be  an  unnameable  cli- 
max, it  had  also  its  special  phases,  and  one  of  these 
I  had  just  averted.  I  followed  him  a  moment  with 
my  eyes  and  I  then  observed  to  Lady  John  that  she 
decidedly  took  me  for  too  simple  a  person.  She 
had  meanwhile  also  watched  the  direction  taken  by 
her  liberated  victim,  and  was  the  next  instant  pre- 
pared with  a  reply  to  my  charge.  "  Because  he  has 
gone  to  talk  with  May  Server?  I  don't  quite  see 
what  you  mean,  for  I  believe  him  really  to  be  in  ter- 
ror of  her.  Most  of  the  men  here  are,  you  know, 
and  I've  really  assured  myself  that  he  doesn't  find 
her  any  less  awful  than  the  rest.  He  finds  her  the 
more  so  by  just  the  very  marked  extra  attention 
that  you  may  have  noticed  she  has  given  him." 

"  And  does  that  now  happen  to  be  what  he  has 
so  eagerly  gone  off  to  impress  upon  her?  " 

Lady  John  was  so  placed  that  she  could  continue 
to  look  at  our  friends,  and  I  made  out  in  her  that 
she  was  not,  in  respect  to  them,  without  some  slight 
elements  of  perplexity.  These  were  even  sufficient 
to  make  her  temporarily  neglect  the  defence  of  the 
breach  I  had  made  in  her  consistency.  "  If  you 
mean  by  '  impressing  upon  '  her  speaking  to  her,  he 

171 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

hasn't  gone — you  can  see  for  yourself — to  impress 
upon  her  anything;  they  have  the  most  extraordi- 
nary way,  which  I've  already  observed,  of  sitting 
together  without  sound.  I  don't  know,"  she 
laughed,  "  what's  the  matter  with  such  people !  " 

"  It  proves  in  general,"  I  admitted,  "  either  some 
coldness  or  some  warmth,  and  I  quite  understand 
that  that's  not  the  way  you  sit  with  your  friends. 
You  steer  admirably  clear  of  every  extravagance. 
I  don't  see,  at  any  rate,  why  Mrs.  Server  is  a  ter- 
ror  " 

But  she  had  already  taken  me  up.  "  If  she 
doesn't  chatter  as  /  do?  "  She  thought  it  over. 
"  But  she  does — to  everyone  but  Mr.  Briss.  I 
mean  to  every  man  she  can  pick  up." 

I  emulated  her  reflection.  "  Do  they  complain 
of  it  to  you?  " 

"They're  more  civil  than  you,"  she  returned; 
"  for  if,  when  they  flee  before  it,  they  bump  up 
against  me  in  their  flight,  they  don't  explain  that  by 
intimating  that  they're  come  from  bad  to  worse. 
Besides,  I  see  what  they  suffer." 

"And  do  you  hear  it?" 

"  What  they  suffer?  No,  I've  taken  care  not  to 
suffer  myself.  I  don't  listen.  It's  none  of  my  busi- 
ness." 

"  Is  that  a  way  of  gently  expressing,"  I  ventured 
to  ask,  "  that  it's  also  none  of  mine?  " 

"  It  might  be,"  she  replied,  "  if  I  had,  as  you  ap- 
172 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

pear  to,  the  imagination  of  atrocity.  But  I  don't 
pretend  to  so  much  as  conceive  what's  your  busi- 
ness." 

"  I  wonder  if  it  isn't  just  now,"  I  said  after  a  mo- 
ment, "  to  convict  you  of  an  attempt  at  duplicity 
that  has  not  even  had  the  saving  grace  of  success ! 
Was  it  for  Brissenden  himself  that  you  spoke  just 
now  as  if  you  believed  him  to  wish  to  cling  to  you?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  kind  enough  for  anything,"  she  good- 
naturedly  enough  laughed.  "  But  what,"  she 
asked  more  sharply,  "  are  you  trying  to  find  out?  " 

Such  an  awful  lot,  the  answer  to  this  would  po- 
litely have  been,  that  I  daresay  the  aptness  of  the 
question  produced  in  my  face  a  shade  of  embarrass- 
ment. I  felt,  however,  the  next  moment  that  I 
needn't  fear  too  much.  What  I,  on  approaching 
Lady  John,  had  found  myself  moved  to  test,  using 
her  in  it  as  a  happy  touchstone,  was  the  degree  of 
the  surrounding,  the  latent,  sense  of  things :  an  im- 
pulse confirmed  by  the  manner  in  which  she  had 
momentarily  circled  about  the  phenomenon  of  Mrs. 
Server's  avidity,  about  the  mystery  of  the  terms 
made  with  it  by  our  friend.  It  was  present  to  me 
that  if  I  could  catch,  on  the  part  of  my  interlocu- 
tress, anything  of  a  straight  scent,  I  might  take  that 
as  the  measure  of  a  diffused  danger.  I  mentally 
applied  this  term  to  the  possibility  of  diffusion,  be- 
cause I  suddenly  found  myself  thinking  with  a  kind 
of  horror  of  any  accident  by  which  I  might  have  to 

173 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

expose  to  the  world,  to  defend  against  the  world, 
to  share  with  the  world,  that  now  so  complex  tangle 
of  hypotheses  that  I  have  had  for  convenience  to 
speak  of  as  my  theory.  I  could  toss  the  ball  myself, 
I  could  catch  it  and  send  it  back,  and  familiarity 
had  now  made  this  exercise — in  my  own  inner  pre- 
cincts— easy  and  safe.  But  the  mere  brush  of  Lady 
John's  clumsier  curiosity  made  me  tremble  for  the 
impunity  of  my  creation.  If  there  had  been,  so  to 
speak,  a  discernment,  however  feeble,  of  my  discern- 
ment, it  would  have  been  irresistible  to  me  to  take 
this  as  the  menace  of  some  incalculable  catastrophe 
or  some  public  ugliness.  It  wasn't  for  me  definitely 
to  image  the  logical  result  of  a  verification  by  the 
sense  of  others  of  the  matter  of  my  vision;  but  the 
thing  had  only  to  hang  before  me  as  a  chance  for  me 
to  feel  that  I  should  utterly  object  to  it,  though  I 
may  appear  to  weaken  this  statement  if  I  add  that 
the  opportunity  to  fix  the  degree  of  my  actual  com- 
panion's betrayed  mystification  was  almost  a  spell. 
This,  I  conceive,  was  just  by  reason  of  what  was  at 
stake.  How  could  I  happily  tell  her  what  I  was  try- 
ing to  find  out? — tell  her,  that  is,  not  too  much  for 
security  and  yet  enough  for  relief?  The  best  an- 
swer seemed  a  brave  jump.  I  was  conscious  of  a 
certain  credit  open  with  her  in  my  appearance  of 
intellectual  sympathy. 

"  Well/'  I  brought  out  at  last,  "  I'm  quite  aching 
to  ask  you  if  you'll  forgive  me  a  great  liberty,  which 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

I  owe  to  your  candid  challenge  my  opportunity  to 
name.  Will  you  allow  me  to  say  frankly  that  I 
think  you  play  a  dangerous  game  with  poor  Briss, 
in  whom  I  confess  I'm  interested?  I  don't  of  course 
speak  of  the  least  danger  to  yourself;  but  it's  an  in- 
justice to  any  man  to  make  use  of  him  quite  so 
flagrantly.  You  don't  in  the  least  flatter  yourself 
that  the  poor  fellow  is  in  love  with  you — you 
wouldn't  care  a  bit  if  he  were.  Yet  you're  willing 
to  make  him  think  you  like  him,  so  far  as  that  may 
be  necessary  to  explain  your  so  frequently  ingenious 
appropriation  of  him.  He  doesn't  like  you  too 
much,  as  yet;  doesn't  even  like  you  quite  enough. 
But  your  potency  may,  after  all,  work  on  him,  and 
then,  as  your  interest  is  so  obviously  quite  elsewhere, 
what  will  happen  will  be  that  you'll  find,  to  your  in- 
convenience, that  you've  gone  too  far.  A  man 
never  likes  a  woman  enough  unless  he  likes  her 
more  than  enough.  Unfortunately  it's  what  the  in- 
veterate ass  is  sure  sooner  or  later  to  do." 

Lady  John  looked  just  enough  interested  to  look 
detached  from  most  of  the  more  vulgar  liabilities 
to  offence.  "  Do  I  understand  that  to  be  the  pretty 
name  by  which  you  describe  Mr.  Briss?" 

"  He  has  his  share  of  it,  for  I'm  thinking  of  the 
idiots  that  we  everyone  of  us  are.  I  throw  out  a 
warning  against  a  contingency." 

"  Are  you  providing  for  the  contingency  of  his 
ceasing  to  care  for  his  wife?  If  you  are  " — and 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

Lady  John's  amusement  took  on  a  breadth — "  you 
may  be  said  to  have  a  prudent  mind  and  to  be  taking 
time  by  the  forelock." 

At  this  I  pricked  up  my  ears.  "  Do  you  mean 
because  of  his  apparently  incorruptible  con- 
stancy?" 

"  I  mean  because  the  whole  thing's  so  before  one. 
She  has  him  so  in  hand  that  they're  neither  of  them 
in  as  much  danger  as  would  count  for  a  mouse.  It 
doesn't  prevent  his  liking  to  dally  by  the  way — for 
she  dallies  by  the  way,  and  he  does  everything  she 
does.  Haven't  I  observed  her,"  Lady  John  contin- 
ued, "  dallying  a  little,  so  far  as  that  goes,  with 
you?  You've  the  tact  to  tell  me  that  he  doesn't 
think  me  good  enough,  but  I  don't  require,  do  I? — 
for  such  a  purpose  as  his — to  be  very  extraordina- 
rily good.  You  may  say  that  you  wrap  it  up  im- 
mensely and  try  to  sugar  the  dose !  Well,  all  the 
same,  give  up,  for  a  quiet  life,  the  attempt  to  be  a 
providence.  You  can't  be  a  providence  and  not  be 
a  bore.  A  real  providence  knows;  whereas  you," 
said  Lady  John,  making  her  point  neatly,  "  have  to 
find  out — and  to  find  out  even  by  asking  '  the  likes 
of '  me.  Your  fine  speech  meanwhile  doesn't  a  bit 
tell  me  what." 

It  affected  me  again  that  she  could  get  so  near 
without  getting  nearer.  True  enough  it  was  that 
I  wanted  to  find  out;  and  though  I  might  expect, 
or  fear,  too  much  of  her,  I  wondered  at  her  only 

176 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

seeing  this — at  her  not  reading  deeper.  The  peril 
of  the  public  ugliness  that  haunted  me  rose  or  fell, 
at  this  moment,  with  my  varying  view  of  her  density. 
Or  rather,  to  be  more  exact,  I  already  saw  her  as 
necessarily  stupid  because  I  saw  her  as  extravagant- 
ly vain.  What  I  see  now  of  course  is  that  I  was  on 
my  own  side  almost  stupidly  hard  with  her — as  I 
may  also  at  that  hour  have  been  subject  to  her  other 
vice.  Didn't  I  perhaps,  in  proportion  as  I  felt  how 
little  she  saw,  think  awfully  well  of  myself,  as  we 
said  at  Newmarch,  for  seeing  so  much  more?  It 
comes  back  to  me  that  the  sense  thus  established 
of  my  superior  vision  may  perfectly  have  gone  a 
little  to  my  head.  If  it  was  a  frenzied  fallacy  I  was 
all  to  blame,  but  if  it  was  anything  else  whatever 
it  was  naturally  intoxicating.  I  really  remember 
in  fact  that  nothing  so  much  as  this  confirmed  pre- 
sumption of  my  impunity  had  appeared  to  me  to 
mark  the  fine  quality  of  my  state.  I  think  there 
must  fairly  have  been  a  pitch  at  which  I  was  not  sure 
that  not  to  partake  of  that  state  was,  on  the  part  of 
others,  the  sign  of  a  gregarious  vulgarity;  as  if  there 
were  a  positive  advantage,  an  undiluted  bliss,  in  the 
intensity  of  consciousness  that  I  had  reached.  / 
alone  was  magnificently  and  absurdly  aware — 
everyone  else  was  benightedly  out  of  it.  So  I  re- 
flected that  there  would  be  almost  nothing  I 
mightn't  with  safety  mention  to  my  present  subject 
of  practice  as  an  acknowledgment  that  I  was  med- 

177 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

dlesome.  I  could  put  no  clue  in  her  hand  that  her 
notorious  acuteness  would  make  of  the  smallest  use 
to  her.  The  most  she  could  do  would  be  to  make  it 
of  use  to  myself,  and  the  clue  it  seemed  best  to  select 
was  therefore  a  complete  confession  of  guilt. 

"  You've  a  lucidity  of  your  own  in  which  I'm 
forced  to  recognise  that  the  highest  purity  of  motive 
looks  shrivelled  and  black.  You  bring  out  accord- 
ingly what  has  made  me  thus  beat  about  the  bush. 
Have  you  really  such  a  fund  of  indulgence  for  Gil- 
bert Long  as  we  most  of  us,  I  gather — though  per- 
haps in  our  blindness — seem  to  see  it  stick  out  again 
that  he  supposes?  May  he  fondly  feel  that  he  can 
continue  to  count  on  it?  Or,  if  you  object  to  my 
question  in  that  form,  is  it  not,  frankly,  to  making 
his  attitude — after  all  so  thoroughly  public — more 
convenient  to  each  of  you  that  (without  perhaps 
quite  measuring  what  you're  about,)  you've  gone 
on  sacrificing  poor  Briss?  I  call  it  sacrificing,  you 
see,  in  spite  of  there  having  been  as  yet  no  such 
great  harm  done.  And  if  you  ask  me  again  what 
business  of  mine  such  inquiries  may  represent,  why, 
the  best  thing  will  doubtless  be  to  say  to  you  that, 
with  a  smaller  dose  of  irrepressible  irony  in  my  com- 
position than  you  have  in  yours,  I  can't  make  so 
light  as  you  of  my  tendency  to  worry  on  behalf  of 
those  I  care  for.  Let  me  finally  hasten  to  add  that 
I'm  not  now  including  in  that  category  either  of  the 
two  gentlemen  I've  named." 

178 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

I  freely  concede,  as  I  continue  my  record,  that  to 
follow  me  at  all,  at  this  point,  gave  proof  on  Lady 
John's  part  of  a  faculty  that  should  have  prevent- 
ed my  thinking  of  her  as  inordinately  backward. 
"  Then  who  in  the  world  are  these  objects  of  your 
solicitude?  " 

I  showed,  over  and  above  my  hesitation,  my  re- 
gret for  the  need  of  it.  "  I'm  afraid  I  can't  tell 
you." 

At  this,  not  unnaturally,  she  fairly  scoffed.  "  Ask- 
ing me  everything  and  telling  me  nothing,  you 
nevertheless  look  to  me  to  satisfy  you?  Do  you 
mean,"  she  pursued,  "  that  you  speak  for  persons 
whose  interest  is  more  legitimately  founded  than 
the  interest  you  so  flatteringly  attribute  to  myself?  " 

"Well,  yes— let  them  be  so  described!  Can't 
you  guess,"  I  further  risked,  "  who  constitutes  at 
least  one  of  my  preoccupations?  " 

The  condescension  of  her  consent  to  think 
marked  itself  handsomely  enough.  "  Is  it  your  idea 
to  pretend  to  me  that  I'm  keeping  Grace  Brissen- 
den  awake?  "  There  was  consistency  enough  in 
her  wonder.  "  She  has  not  been  anything  but  nice 
to  me;  she's  not  a  person  whose  path  one  crosses 
without  finding  it  out;  and  I  can't  imagine  what  has 
got  into  her  if  any  such  grievance  as  that  is  what 
she  has  been  pouring  out  to  you  in  your  apparently 
so  deep  confabulations." 

This  toss  of  the  ball  was  one  that,  I  saw  quickly 
179 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

enough,  even  a  taste  for  sport  wouldn't  justify  my 
answering,  and  my  logical  interest  lay  moreover 
elsewhere.  "  Dear  no !  Mrs.  Brissenden  certainly 
feels  her  strength,  and  I  should  never  presume  to 
take  under  my  charge  any  personal  situation  of  hers. 
I  had  in  my  mind  a  very  different  identity." 

Lady  John,  as  if  to  be  patient  with  me,  looked 
about  at  our  companions  for  a  hint  of  it,  wondering 
which  of  the  ladies  I  might  have  been  supposed  to 
"  care  for  "  so  much  as  to  tolerate  in  her  a  prefer- 
ence for  a  rival;  but  the  effect  of  this  survey  was,  I 
the  next  instant  observed,  a  drop  of  her  attention 
from  what  I  had  been  saying.  Her  eye  had  been 
caught  by  the  sight  of  Gilbert  Long  within  range 
of  us,  and  then  had  been  just  visibly  held  by  the  fact 
that  the  person  seated  with  him  on  one  of  the  small 
sofas  that  almost  of  necessity  made  conversation  in- 
timate was  the  person  whose  name,  just  uttered  be- 
tween us,  was,  in  default  of  the  name  she  was  in 
search  of,  still  in  the  air.  Gilbert  Long  and  Mrs. 
Briss  were  in  familiar  colloquy — though  I  was 
aware,  at  the  first  flush,  of  nothing  in  this  that 
should  have  made  my  interlocutress  stare.  That  is 
I  was  aware  of  nothing  but  that  I  had  simultaneous- 
ly myself  been  moved  to  some  increase  of  sharpness. 
What  could  I  have  known  that  should  have  caused 
me  to  wonder  at  the  momentary  existence  of  this 
particular  conjunction  of  minds  unless  it  were  sim- 
ply the  fact  that  I  hadn't  seen  it  occur  amid  the 

1 80 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

many  conjunctions  I  had  already  noticed — plus  the 
fact  that  I  had  a  few  minutes  before,  in  the  interest 
of  the  full  roundness  of  my  theory,  actually  been 
missing  it?  These  two  persons  had  met  in  my  pres- 
ence at  Paddington  and  had  travelled  together 
under  my  eyes;  I  had  talked  of  Mrs.  Briss  with  Long 
and  of  Long  with  Mrs.  Briss;  but  the  vivid  picture 
that  their  social  union  forthwith  presented  stirred 
within  me,  though  so  strangely  late  in  the  day,  it 
might  have  seemed,  for  such  an  emotion,  more  than 
enough  freshness  of  impression.  Yet — now  that 
I  did  have  it  there — why  should  it  be  vivid,  why 
stirring,  why  a  picture  at  all?  Was  any  temporary 
collocation,  in  a  house  so  encouraging  to  sociability, 
out  of  the  range  of  nature?  Intensely  prompt,  I 
need  scarcely  say,  were  both  my  freshness  and  my 
perceived  objections  to  it.  The  happiest  objection, 
could  I  have  taken  time  to  phrase  it,  would  doubt- 
less have  been  that  the  particular  effect  of  this  jux- 
taposition— to  my  eyes  at  least — was  a  thing  not  to 
have  been  foreseen.  The  parties  to  it  looked,  cer- 
tainly, as  I  felt  that  I  hadn't  prefigured  them; 
though  even  this,  for  my  reason,  was  not  a  descrip- 
tion of  their  aspect.  Much  less  was  it  a  description 
for  the  intelligence  of  Lady  John — to  whom,  how- 
ever, after  all,  some  formulation  of  what  she  dimly 
saw  would  not  be  so  indispensable. 

We  briefly  watched,  at  any  rate,  together,  and  as 
our  eyes  met  again  we  moreover  confessed  that  we 

181 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

had  watched.  And  we  could  ostensibly  have  offered 
each  other  no  explanation  of  that  impulse  save  that 
we  had  been  talking  of  those  concerned  as  separate 
and  that  it  was  in  consequence  a  little  odd  to  find 
ourselves  suddenly  seeing  them  as  one.  For  that 
was  it — they  were  as  one;  as  one,  at  all  events,  for 
my  large  reading.  My  large  reading  had  mean- 
while, for  the  convenience  of  the  rest  of  my  little 
talk  with  Lady  John,  to  make  itself  as  small  as  pos- 
sible. I  had  an  odd  sense,  till  we  fell  apart  again, 
as  of  keeping  my  finger  rather  stiffly  fixed  on  a  pas- 
sage in  a  favourite  author  on  which  I  had  not  pre- 
viously lighted.  I  held  the  book  out  of  sight  and 
behind  me;  I  spoke  of  things  that  were  not  at  all  in 
it — or  not  at  all  on  that  particular  page;  but  my  vol- 
ume, none  the  less,  was  only  waiting.  What  might 
be  written  there  hummed  already  in  my  ears  as  a  re- 
sult of  my  mere  glimpse.  Had  they  also  wonder- 
fully begun  to  know?  Had  she,  most  wonderfully, 
and  had  they,  in  that  case,  prodigiously  come  to- 
gether on  it?  This  was  a  possibility  into  which  my 
imagination  could  dip  even  deeper  than  into  the 
depths  over  which  it  had  conceived  the  other  pair 
as  hovering.  These  opposed  couples  balanced  like 
bronze  groups  at  the  two  ends  of  a  chimney-piece, 
and  the  most  I  could  say  to  myself  in  lucid  depreca- 
tion of  my  thought  was  that  I  mustn't  take  them 
equally  for  granted  merely  because  they  balanced. 
Things  in  the  real  had  a  way  of  not  balancing;  it  was 

182 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

all  an  affair,  this  fine  symmetry,  of  artificial  propor- 
tion. Yet  even  while  I  kept  my  eyes  away  from 
Mrs.  Briss  and  Long  it  was  vivid  to  me  that,  "  com- 
posing "  there  beautifully,  they  could  scarce  help 
playing  a  part  in  my  exhibition.  The  mind  of  man, 
furthermore — and  my  generalisation  pressed  hard, 
with  a  quick  twist,  on  the  supersubtlety  as  to  which 
I  had  just  been  privately  complacent — the  mind  of 
man  doubtless  didn't  know  from  one  minute  to  the 
other,  under  the  appeal  of  phantasmagoric  life,  what 
it  would  profitably  be  at.  It  had  struck  me  a  few 
seconds  before  as  vulgarly  gross  in  Lady  John  that 
she  was  curious,  or  conscious,  of  so  small  a  part;  in 
spite  of  which  I  was  already  secretly  wincing  at  the 
hint  that  these  others  had  begun  to  find  themselves 
less  in  the  dark  and  perhaps  even  directly  to  ex- 
change their  glimmerings. 

My  personal  privilege,  on  the  basis  of  the  full 
consciousness,  had  become,  on  the  spot,  in  the  turn 
of  an  eye,  more  than  questionable,  and  I  was  really 
quite  scared  at  the  chance  of  having  to  face — of  hav- 
ing to  see  them  face — another  recognition.  What 
did  this  alarm  imply  but  the  complete  reversal  of 
my  estimate  of  the  value  of  perception?  Mrs.  Bris- 
senden  and  Long  had  been  hitherto  magnificently 
without  it,  and  I  was  responsible  perhaps  for  hav- 
ing, in  a  mood  practically  much  stupider  than  the 
stupidest  of  theirs,  put  them  gratuitously  and  help- 
lessly on  it.  To  be  without  it  was  the  most  consist- 

183 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

ent,  the  most  successful,  because  the  most  amiable, 
form  of  selfishness;  and  why  should  people  admira- 
bly equipped  for  remaining  so,  people  bright  and 
insolent  in  their  prior  state,  people  in  whom  this 
state  was  to  have  been  respected  as  a  surface  with- 
out a  scratch  is  respected,  be  made  to  begin  to 
vibrate,  to  crack  and  split,  from  within?  Wasn't  it 
enough  for  me  to  pay,  vicariously,  the  tax  on  being 
absurd?  Were  we  all  to  be  landed,  without  an  issue 
or  a  remedy,  in  a  condition  on  which  that  tax  would 
be  generally  levied?  It  was  as  if,  abruptly,  with  a 
new  emotion,  I  had  wished  to  unthink  every 
thought  with  which  I  had  been  occupied  for  twenty- 
four  hours.  Let  me  add,  however,  that  even  had 
this  process  been  manageable  I  was  aware  of  not 
proposing  to  begin  it  till  I  should  have  done  with 
Lady  John. 

The  time  she  took  to  meet  my  last  remark  is  nat- 
urally not  represented  by  this  prolonged  glance  of 
mine  at  the  amount  of  suggestion  that  just  then 
happened  to  reach  me  from  the  other  quarter.  It 
at  all  events  duly  came  out  between  us  that  Mrs. 
Server  was  the  person  I  did  have  on  my  mind;  and 
I  remember  that  it  had  seemed  to  me  at  the  end  of  a 
minute  to  matter  comparatively  little  by  which  of 
us,  after  all,  she  was  first  designated.  There  is  per- 
haps an  oddity — which  I  must  set  down  to  my  emo- 
tion of  the  moment — in  my  not  now  being  able  to 
say.  I  should  have  been  hugely  startled  if  the  sight 

184 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

of  Gilbert  Long  had  appeared  to  make  my  compan- 
ion suddenly  think  of  her;  and  reminiscence  of  that 
shock  is  not  one  of  those  I  have  found  myself  stor- 
ing up.  What  does  abide  with  me  is  the  memory 
of  how,  after  a  little,  my  apprehensions,  of  various 
kinds,  dropped — most  of  all  under  the  deepening 
conviction  that  Lady  John  was  not  a  whit  less  agree- 
ably superficial  than  I  could  even  at  the  worst  have 
desired.  The  point  established  for  me  was  that, 
whereas  she  passed  with  herself  and  so  many  others 
as  taking  in  everything,  she  had  taken  in  nothing 
whatever  that  it  was  to  my  purpose  she  should  not 
take.  Vast,  truly,  was  the  world  of  observation, 
that  we  could  both  glean  in  it  so  actively  without 
crossing  each  other's  steps.  There  we  stood  close 
together,  yet — save  for  the  accident  of  a  final  dash, 
as  I  shall  note — were  at  opposite  ends  of  the  field. 

It's  a  matter  as  to  which  the  truth  sounds  prig- 
gish, but  I  can't  help  it  if — yes,  positively — it  affect- 
ed me  as  hopelessly  vulgar  to  have  made  any  induc- 
tion at  all  about  our  companions  but  those  I  have 
recorded,  in  such  detail,  on  behalf  of  my  own  energy. 
It  was  better  verily  not  to  have  touched  them — 
which  was  the  case  of  everyone  else — than  to  have 
taken  them  up,  with  knowing  gestures,  only  to  do 
so  little  with  them.  That  I  felt  the  interest  of  May 
Server,  that  May  Server  felt  the  interest  of  poor 
Briss,  and  that  my  feeling  incongruously  presented 
itself  as  putting  up,  philosophically,  with  the  incon- 

185 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

venience  of  the  lady's — these  were,  in  fine,  circum- 
stances to  which  she  clearly  attached  ideas  too  com- 
monplace for  me  to  judge  it  useful  to  gather  them 
in.  She  read  all  things,  Lady  John,  heaven  knows, 
in  the  light  of  the  universal  possibility  of  a  "  rela- 
tion"; but  most  of  the  relations  that  she  had  up 
her  sleeve  could  thrust  themselves  into  my  theory 
only  to  find  themselves,  the  next  minute,  eliminated. 
They  were  of  alien  substance  —  insoluble  in  the 
whole.  Gilbert  Long  had  for  her  no  connection, 
in  my  deeper  sense,  with  Mrs.  Server,  nor  Mrs.  Ser- 
ver with  Gilbert  Long,  nor  the  husband  with  the 
wife,  nor  the  wife  with  the  husband,  nor  I  with 
either  member  of  either  pair,  nor  anyone  with  any- 
thing, nor  anything  with  anyone.  She  was  thus 
exactly  where  I  wanted  her  to  be,  for,  frankly,  I 
became  conscious,  at  this  climax  of  my  conclusion, 
that  I  a  little  wanted  her  to  be  where  she  had  dis- 
tinctly ended  by  betraying  to  me  that  her  proper 
inspiration  had  placed  her.  If  I  have  just  said  that 
my  apprehensions,  of  various  kinds,  had  finally  and 
completely  subsided,  a  more  exact  statement  would 
perhaps  have  been  that  from  the  moment  our  eyes 
met  over  the  show  of  our  couple  on  the  sofa,  the 
question  of  any  other  calculable  thing  than  that 
hint  of  a  relation  had  simply  known  itself  super- 
seded. Reduced  to  its  plainest  terms,  this  sketch 
of  an  improved  acquaintance  between  our  comrades 
was  designed  to  make  Lady  John  think.  It  was 

1 86 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

designed  to  make  me  do  no  less,  but  we  thought, 
inevitably,  on  different  lines. 

I  have  already  so  represented  my  successions  of 
reflection  as  rapid  that  I  may  not  appear  to  exceed 
in  mentioning  the  amusement  and  philosophy  with 
which  I  presently  perceived  it  as  unmistakable  that 
she  believed  in  the  depth  of  her  new  sounding.  It 
visibly  went  down  for  her  much  nearer  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  sea  than  any  plumb  I  might  be  qualified 
to  drop.  Poor  Briss  was  in  love  with  his  wife — that, 
when  driven  to  the  wall,  she  had  had  to  recognise; 
but  she  had  not  had  to  recognise  that  his  wife  was 
in  love  with  poor  Briss.  What  was  then  to  militate, 
on  that  lady's  part,  against  a  due  consciousness,  at 
the  end  of  a  splendid  summer  day,  a  day  on  which 
occasions  had  been  so  multiplied,  of  an  impression 
of  a  special  order?  What  was  to  prove  that  there 
was  "  nothing  in  it  "  when  two  persons  sat  looking 
so  very  exceptionally  much  as  if  there  were  every- 
thing in  it,  as  if  they  were  for  the  first  time — thanks 
to  finer  opportunity — doing  each  other  full  justice? 
Mustn't  it  indeed  at  this  juncture  have  come  a  little 
over  my  friend  that  Grace  had  lent  herself  with  un- 
common good  nature,  the  previous  afternoon,  to  the 
arrangement  by  which,  on  the  way  from  town,  her 
ladyship's  reputation  was  to  profit  by  no  worse 
company,  precisely,  than  poor  Briss's?  Mrs.  Bris- 
senden's  own  was  obviously  now  free  to  profit  by 
my  companion's  remembering  —  if  the  fact  had 

187 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

reached  her  ears — that  Mrs.  Brissenden  had  mean- 
while had  Long  for  an  escort.  So  much,  at  least, 
I  saw  Lady  John  as  seeing,  and  my  vision  may  be 
taken  as  representing  the  dash  I  have  confessed  my- 
self as  making  from  my  end  of  our  field.  It  offers 
us,  to  be  exact,  as  jostling  each  other  just  sensibly — 
though  /  only  might  feel  the  bruise — in  our  business 
of  picking  up  straws.  Our  view  of  the  improved 
acquaintance  was  only  a  straw,  but  as  I  stooped  to 
it  I  felt  my  head  bump  with  my  neighbour's.  This 
might  have  made  me  ashamed  of  my  eagerness,  but, 
oddly  enough,  that  effect  was  not  to  come.  I  felt 
in  fact  that,  since  we  had  even  pulled  against  each 
other  at  the  straw,  I  carried  off,  in  turning  away,  the 
larger  piece. 


1 88 


FT  was  in  the  moment  of  turning  away  that  I 
-*•  somehow  learned,  without  looking,  that  Mrs. 
Brissenden  had  also  immediately  moved.  I  wanted 
to  look  and  yet  had  my  reasons  for  not  appearing 
to  do  it  too  quickly;  in  spite  of  which  I  found  my 
friends,  even  after  an  interval,  still  distinguishable 
as  separating  for  the  avoidance  of  comment.  Gil- 
bert Long,  rising  directly  after  his  associate,  had 
already  walked  away,  but  this  associate,  lingering 
where  she  stood  and  meeting  me  with  it,  availed 
herself  of  the  occasion  to  show  that  she  wished  to 
speak  to  me.  Such  was  the  idea  she  threw  out  on 
my  forthwith  going  to  her.  "  For  a  few  minutes — 
presently." 

"  Do  you  mean  alone?  Shall  I  come  with  you?  " 
She  hesitated  long  enough  for  me  to  judge  her 
as  a  trifle  surprised  at  my  being  so  ready — as  if  in- 
deed she  had  rather  hoped  I  wouldn't  be;  which 
would  have  been  an  easy  pretext  to  her  to  gain  time. 
In  fact,  with  a  face  not  quite  like  the  brave  face  she 
had  at  each  step  hitherto  shown  me,  yet  unlike  in 
a  fashion  I  should  certainly  not  have  been  able  to 
define  on  the  spot;  with  an  expression,  in  short,  that 

189 


THE    SACRED   FOUNT 

struck  me  as  taking  refuge  in  a  general  reminder 
that  not  my  convenience,  but  her  own,  was  in  ques- 
tion, she  replied :  "  Oh,  no — but  before  it's  too  late. 
A  few  minutes  hence.  Where  shall  you  be?  "  she 
asked  with  a  shade,  as  I  imagined,  of  awkwardness. 
She  had  looked  about  as  for  symptoms  of  accept- 
ance of  the  evening's  end  on  the  part  of  the  ladies, 
but  we  could  both  see  our  hostess  otherwise  occu- 
pied. "  We  don't  go  up  quite  yet.  In  the  morn- 
ing," she  added  as  with  an  afterthought,  "  I  sup- 
pose you  leave  early." 

I  debated.  "  I  haven't  thought.  And  you?  " 
She  looked  at  me  straighter  now.  "  I  haven't 
thought  either."  Then  she  was  silent,  neither  turn- 
ing away  nor  coming  to  the  point,  as  it  seemed  to 
me  she  might  have  done,  of  telling  me  what  she  had 
in  her  head.  I  even  fancied  that  her  momentary 
silence,  combined  with  the  way  she  faced  me — as  if 
that  might  speak  for  her — was  meant  for  an  assur- 
ance that,  whatever  train  she  should  take  in  the 
morning,  she  would  arrange  that  it  shouldn't  be, 
as  it  had  been  the  day  before,  the  same  as  mine.  I 
really  caught  in  her  attitude  a  world  of  invidious 
reference  to  the  little  journey  we  had  already  made 
together.  She  had  sympathies,  she  had  proprieties 
that  imposed  themselves,  and  I  was  not  to  think 
that  any  little  journey  was  to  be  thought  of  again 
in  those  conditions.  It  came  over  me  that  this 
might  have  been  quite  a  matter  discussed  by  her, 

190 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

discussed  and  settled,  with  her  interlocutor  on  the 
sofa.  It  came  over  me  that  if,  before  our  break-up 
for  the  night,  I  should  happen  also  to  have  a  min- 
ute's talk  with  that  interlocutor,  I  would  equally  get 
from  it  the  sense  of  an  intention  unfavourable  to  our 
departing  in  the  same  group.  And  I  wondered  if 
this,  in  that  case,  wouldn't  affect  me  as  marking  a 
change  back  to  Long's  old  manner — a  forfeiture  of 
the  conditions,  whatever  view  might  be  taken  of 
them,  that  had  made  him,  at  Paddington,  suddenly 
show  himself  as  so  possible  and  so  pleasant.  If 
he  "  changed  back,"  wouldn't  Grace  Brissenden 
change  by  the  same  law?  And  if  Grace  Brissenden 
did,  wouldn't  her  husband?  Wouldn't  the  miracle 
take  the  form  of  the  rejuvenation  of  that  husband? 
Would  it,  still  by  the  same  token,  take  the  form  of 
her  becoming  very  old,  becoming  if  not  as  old  as  her 
husband,  at  least  as  old,  as  one  might  say,  as  her- 
self? Would  it  take  the  form  of  her  becoming 
dreadfully  plain — plain  with  the  plainness  of  mere 
stout  maturity  and  artificial  preservation?  And  if 
it  took  this  form  for  the  others,  which  would  it  take 
for  May  Server?  Would  she,  at  a  bound  as  marked 
as  theirs,  recover  her  presence  of  mind  and  her  lost 
equipment? 

The  kind  of  suspense  that  these  rising  questions 
produced  for  me  suffered  naturally  no  drop  after 
Mrs.  Briss  had  cut  everything  short  by  rustling  vo- 
luminously away.  She  had  something  to  say  to  me, 

191 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

and  yet  she  hadn't;  she  had  nothing  to  say,  and  yet 
I  felt  her  to  have  already  launched  herself  in  a  state- 
ment. There  were  other  persons  I  had  made  uncom- 
fortable without  at  all  intending  it,  but  she  at  least 
had  not  suffered  from  me,  and  I  had  no  wish  that 
she  should;  according  to  which  she  had  no  press- 
ure to  fear.  My  suspense,  in  spite  of  this,  remained 
— indeed  all  the  more  sensibly  that  I  had  suddenly 
lost  my  discomfort  on  the  subject  of  redeeming  my 
pledge  to  her.  It  had  somehow  left  me  at  a  stroke, 
my  dread  of  her  calling  me,  as  by  our  agreement,  to 
submit  in  respect  to  what  we  had  talked  of  as  the 
identification  of  the  woman.  That  call  had  been 
what  I  looked  for  from  her  after  she  had  seen  me 
break  with  Lady  John;  my  first  idea  then  could  only 
be  that  I  must  come,  as  it  were,  to  time.  It  was 
strange  that,  the  next  minute,  I  should  find  myself 
sure  that  I  was,  as  I  may  put  it,  free;  it  was  at  all 
events  indisputable  that  as  I  stood  there  watching 
her  recede  and  fairly  studying,  in  my  preoccupation, 
her  handsome  affirmative  back  and  the  special 
sweep  of  her  long  dress — it  was  indisputable  that, 
on  some  intimation  I  could,  at  the  instant,  recog- 
nise but  not  seize,  my  consciousness  was  aware  of 
having  performed  a  full  revolution.  If  I  was  free, 
that  was  what  I  had  been  only  so  short  a  time  be- 
fore, what  I  had  been  as  I  drove,  in  London,  to  the 
station.  Was  this  now  a  foreknowledge  that,  on 
the  morrow,  in  driving  away,  I  should  feel  myself 

192 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

restored  to  that  blankness?  The  state  lost  was  the 
state  of  exemption  from  intense  obsessions,  and  the 
state  recovered  would  therefore  logically  match  it. 
If  the  foreknowledge  had  thus,  as  by  the  stir  of  the 
air  from  my  friend's  whisk  of  her  train,  descended 
upon  me,  my  liberation  was  in  a  manner  what  I  was 
already  tasting.  Yet  how  I  also  felt,  with  it,  some- 
thing of  the  threat  of  a  chill  to  my  curiosity !  The 
taste  of  its  being  all  over,  that  really  sublime  suc- 
cess of  the  strained  vision  in  which  I  had  been  living 
for  crowded  hours — was  this  a  taste  that  I  was  sure 
I  should  particularly  enjoy?  Marked  enough  it 
was,  doubtless,  that  even  in  the  stress  of  perceiving 
myself  broken  with  I  ruefully  reflected  on  all  the 
more,  on  the  ever  so  much,  I  still  wanted  to  know ! 

Well,  something  of  this  quantity,  in  any  case, 
would  come,  since  Mrs.  Briss  did  want  to  speak  to 
me.  The  suspense  that  remained  with  me,  as  I 
have  indicated,  was  the  special  fresh  one  she  had 
just  produced.  It  fed,  for  a  little,  positively,  on 
that  survey  of  her  fine  retreating  person  to  which 
I  have  confessed  that  my  eyes  attached  themselves. 
These  seconds  were  naturally  few,  and  yet  my  mem- 
ory gathers  from  them  something  that  I  can  only 
compare,  in  its  present  effect,  to  the  scent  of  a 
strange  flower  passed  rapidly  under  my  nose.  I 
seem  in  other  words  to  recall  that  I  received  in  that 
brush  the  very  liveliest  impression  that  my  whole 
adventure  was  to  yield — the  impression  that  is  my 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

reason  for  speaking  of  myself  as  having  at  the  junc- 
ture in  question  "  studied  "  Mrs.  Brissenden's  back. 
Study  of  a  profound  sort  would  appear  needed  in 
truth  to  account  for  it.  It  was  as  handsome  and 
affirmative  that  she  at  once  met  and  evaded  my 
view,  but  was  not  the  affirmation  (as  distinguished 
from  the  handsomeness,  which  was  a  matter  of  stat- 
ure and  mass,)  fairly  downright  and  defiant?  Didn't 
what  I  saw  strike  me  as  saying  straight  at  me,  as 
far  as  possible,  "  I  am  young — I  am  and  I  will  be; 
see,  see  if  I'm  not;  there,  there,  there!" — with 
"  there's  "  as  insistent  and  rhythmical  as  the  undu- 
lations of  her  fleeing  presence,  as  the  bejewelled 
nod  of  her  averted  brow?  If  her  face  had  not  been 
hidden,  should  I  not  precisely  have  found  myself 
right  in  believing  that  it  looked,  exactly,  for  those 
instants,  dreadfully  older  than  it  had  ever  yet  had 
to?  The  answer  ideally  cynical  would  have  been: 
"  Oh,  any  woman  of  your  resources  can  look  young 
with  her  back  turned!  But  you've  had  to  turn  it 
to  make  that  proclamation."  She  passed  out  of  the 
room  proclaiming,  and  I  did  stand  there  a  little  de- 
feated, even  though  with  her  word  for  another 
chance  at  her.  Was  this  word  one  that  she  would 
keep?  I  had  got  off — yes,  to  a  certainty.  But  so 
too  had  not  she? 

Naturally,  at  any  rate,  I  didn't  stay  planted;  and 
though  it  seemed  long  it  was  probably  for  no  great 
time  after  this  that  I  roamed  in  my  impatience.  I 

194 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

was  divided  between  the  discourtesy  of  wishing  the 
ladies  would  go  to  bed  and  the  apprehension  that 
if  they  did  too  soon  go  I  might  yet  lose  everything. 
Was  Mrs.  Briss  waiting  for  more  privacy,  or  was 
she  only  waiting  for  a  complete  escape?  Of  course, 
even  while  I  asked  myself  that,  I  had  to  remember 
how  much  I  was  taking  for  granted  on  her  part  in 
the  way  of  conscious  motive.  Still,  if  she  had  not 
a  motive  for  escaping,  why  had  she  not  had  one, 
five  minutes  before,  for  coming  to  the  point  with 
me?  This  inquiry  kept  me  hovering  where  she 
might  at  any  instant  find  me,  but  that  was  not  in- 
consistent with  my  presently  passing,  like  herself, 
into  another  room.  The  first  one  I  entered — there 
were  great  chains  of  them  at  Newmarch — showed 
me  once  more,  at  the  end  opposite  the  door,  the 
object  that  all  day  had  been,  present  or  absent,  most 
in  my  eyes,  and  that  there  now  could  be  no  fallacy 
in  my  recognising.  Mrs.  Server's  unquenchable 
little  smile  had  never  yet  been  so  far  from  quenched 
as  when  it  recognised,  on  its  own  side,  that  I  had 
just  had  time  to  note  how  Ford  Obert  was,  for  a 
change,  taking  it  in.  These  two  friends  of  mine 
appeared  to  have  moved  together,  after  the  music, 
to  the  corner  in  which  I  should  not  have  felt  it  as 
misrepresenting  the  matter  to  say  that  I  surprised 
them.  They  owed  nothing  of  the  harmony  that 
held  them — unlike  my  other  couple — to  the  con- 
straint of  a  common  seat;  a  small  glazed  table,  a 

'95 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

receptacle  for  minute  objects  of  price,  extended  it- 
self between  them  as  if  it  had  offered  itself  as  an 
occasion  for  their  drawing  toward  it  a  pair  of  low 
chairs;  but  their  union  had  nevertheless  such  an  air 
of  accepted  duration  as  led  it  slightly  to  puzzle  me. 
This  would  have  been  a  reason  the  more  for  not 
interrupting  it  even  had  I  not  peculiarly  wished 
to  respect  it.  It  was  grist  to  my  mill  somehow  that 
something  or  other  had  happened  as  a  consequence 
of  which  Obert  had  lost  the  impulse  to  repeat  to  me 
his  odd  invitation  to  intervene.  He  gave  me  no 
notice  as  I  passed;  the  notice  was  all  from  his  com- 
panion. It  constituted,  I  felt,  on  her  part,  precisely 
as  much  and  precisely  as  little  of  an  invitation  as  it 
had  constituted  at  the  moment — so  promptly  fol- 
lowing our  arrival — of  my  first  seeing  them  linked; 
which  is  but  another  way  of  saying  that  nothing 
in  Mrs.  Server  appeared  to  acknowledge  a  lapse. 
It  was  nearly  midnight,  but  she  was  again  under 
arms;  everything  conceivable — or  perhaps  rather 
inconceivable — had  passed  between  us  before  din- 
ner, but  her  face  was  exquisite  again  in  its  repudia- 
tion of  any  reference. 

Any  reference,  I  saw,  would  have  been  difficult 
to  me,  had  I  unluckily  been  forced  to  approach  her. 
What  would  have  made  the  rare  delicacy  of  the 
problem  was  that  blankness  itself  was  the  most 
direct  reference  of  all.  I  had,  however,  as  I  passed 
her  by,  a  comprehension  as  inward  as  that  with 

196 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

which  I  had  watched  Mrs.  Briss's  retreat.  "  What 
shall  I  see  when  I  next  see  you?  "  was  what  I  had 
mutely  asked  of  Mrs.  Briss;  but  "  God  grant  I  don't 
see  you  again  at  all ! "  was  the  prayer  sharply  de- 
termined in  my  heart  as  I  left  Mrs.  Server  behind 
me.  I  left  her  behind  me  for  ever,  but  the  prayer 
has  not  been  answered.  I  did  see  her  again;  I  see 
her  now;  I  shall  see  her  always;  I  shall  continue 
to  feel  at  moments  in  my  own  facial  muscles  the 
deadly  little  ache  of  her  heroic  grin.  With  this, 
however,  I  was  not  then  to  reckon,  and  my  simple 
philosophy  of  the  moment  could  be  but  to  get  out 
of  the  room.  The  result  of  that  movement  was 
that,  two  minutes  later,  at  another  doorway,  but 
opening  this  time  into  a  great  corridor,  I  found  my- 
self arrested  by  a  combination  that  should  really 
have  counted  for  me  as  the  least  of  my  precious 
anomalies,  but  that — as  accident  happened  to  pro- 
tect me — I  watched,  so  long  as  I  might,  with  in- 
tensity. I  should  in  this  connection  describe  my 
eyes  as  yet  again  engaging  the  less  scrutable  side 
of  the  human  figure,  were  it  not  that  poor  Briss's 
back,  now  presented  to  me  beside  his  wife's — for 
these  were  the  elements  of  the  combination — had 
hitherto  seemed  to  me  the  most  eloquent  of  his 
aspects.  It  was  when  he  presented  his  face  that 
he  looked,  each  time,  older;  but  it  was  when  he 
showed  you,  from  behind,  the  singular  stoop  of  his 
shoulders,  that  he  looked  oldest. 

197 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

They  had  just  passed  the  door  when  I  emerged, 
and  they  receded,  at  a  slow  pace  and  with  a  kind 
of  confidential  nearness,  down  the  long  avenue  of 
the  lobby.  Her  head  was  always  high  and  her  hus- 
band's always  low,  so  that  I  couldn't  be  sure — it 
might  have  been  only  my  fancy — that  the  contrast 
of  this  habit  was  more  marked  in  them  than  usual. 
If  I  had  known  nothing  about  them  I  should  have 
just  unimaginatively  said  that  talk  was  all  on  one 
side  and  attention  all  on  the  other.  I,  of  course, 
for  that  matter,  did  know  nothing  about  them;  yet 
I  recall  how  it  came  to  me,  as  my  extemporised 
shrewdness  hung  in  their  rear,  that  I  mustn't  think 
anything  too  grossly  simple  of  what  might  be  tak- 
ing place  between  them.  My  position  was,  in  spite 
of  myself,  that  of  my  having  mastered  enough  pos- 
sibilities to  choose  from.  If  one  of  these  might 
be — for  her  face,  in  spite  of  the  backward  cock  of 
her  head,  was  turned  to  him — that  she  was  looking 
her  time  of  life  straight  at  him  and  yet  making  love 
to  him  with  it  as  hard  as  ever  she  could,  so  another 
was  that  he  had  been  already  so  thoroughly  got 
back  into  hand  that  she  had  no  need  of  asking 
favours,  that  she  was  more  splendid  than  ever,  and 
that,  the  same  poor  Briss  as  before  his  brief  ad- 
venture, he  was  only  feeling  afresh  in  his  soul,  as  a 
response  to  her,  the  gush  of  the  sacred  fount.  Pre- 
sumptous  choice  as  to  these  alternatives  failed,  on 
my  part,  in  time,  let  me  say,  to  flower;  it  rose  be- 

198 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

fore  me  in  time  that,  whatever  might  be,  for  the 
exposed  instant,  the  deep  note  of  their  encounter, 
only  one  thing  concerned  me  in  it :  its  being  wholly 
their  own  business.  So  for  that  I  liberally  let  it  go, 
passing  into  the  corridor,  but  proceeding  in  the  op- 
posite sense  and  aiming  at  an  issue  which  I  judged 
I  should  reach  before  they  would  turn  in  their  walk. 
I  had  not,  however,  reached  it  before  I  caught  the 
closing  of  the  door  furthest  from  me;  at  the  sound 
of  which  I  looked  about  to  find  the  Brissendens 
gone.  They  had  not  remained  for  another  turn, 
but  had  taken  their  course,  evidently,  back  to  the 
principal  drawing-room,  where,  no  less  presumably, 
the  procession  of  the  ladies  bedward  was  even  then 
forming.  Mrs.  Briss  would  fall  straight  into  it,  and 
I  had  accordingly  lost  her.  I  hated  to  appear  to 
pursue  her,  late  in  the  day  as  it  may  appear  to 
affirm  that  I  put  my  dignity  before  my  curiosity. 

Free  again,  at  all  events,  to  wait  or  to  wander, 
I  lingered  a  minute  where  I  had  stopped — close  to 
a  wide  window,  as  it  happened,  that,  at  this  end  of 
the  passage,  stood  open  to  the  warm  darkness  and 
overhung,  from  no  great  height,  one  of  the  terraces. 
The  night  was  mild  and  rich,  and  though  the  lights 
within  were,  in  deference  to  the  temperature,  not 
too  numerous,  I  found  the  breath  of  the  outer  air  a 
sudden  corrective  to  the  grossness  of  our  lustre  and 
the  thickness  of  our  medium,  our  general  heavy 
humanity.  I  felt  its  taste  sweet,  and  while  I  leaned 

199 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

for  refreshment  on  the  sill  I  thought  of  many  things. 
One  of  those  that  passed  before  me  was  the  way  that 
Newmarch  and  its  hospitalities  were  sacrificed,  after 
all,  and  much  more  than  smaller  circles,  to  material 
frustrations.  We  were  all  so  fine  and  formal,  and 
the  ladies  in  particular  at  once  so  little  and  so  much 
clothed,  so  beflounced  yet  so  denuded,  that  the 
summer  stars  called  to  us  in  vain.  We  had  ignored 
them  in  our  crystal  cage,  among  our  tinkling  lamps; 
no  more  free  really  to  alight  than  if  we  had  been 
dashing  in  a  locked  railway-train  across  a  lovely 
land.  I  remember  asking  myself  if  I  mightn't  still 
take  a  turn  under  them,  and  I  remember  that  on 
appealing  to  my  watch  for  its  sanction  I  found  mid- 
night to  have  struck.  That  then  was  the  end,  and 
my  only  real  alternatives  were  bed  or  the  smoking- 
room.  The  difficulty  with  bed  was  that  I  was  in 
no  condition  to  sleep,  and  the  difficulty  about  re- 
joining the  men  was  that — definitely,  yes — there 
was  one  of  them  I  desired  not  again  to  see.  I  felt 
it  with  sharpness  as  I  leaned  on  the  sill;  I  felt  it 
with  sadness  as  I  looked  at  the  stars;  I  felt  once 
more  what  I  had  felt  on  turning  a  final  back  five 
minutes  before,  so  designedly,  on  Mrs.  Server.  I 
saw  poor  Briss  as  he  had  just  moved  away  from  me, 
and  I  knew,  as  I  had  known  in  the  other  case,  that 
my  troubled  sense  would  fain  feel  I  had  practically 
done  with  him.  It  would  be  well,  for  aught  I  could 
do  for  him,  that  I  should  have  seen  the  last  of  him. 

200 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

What  remained  with  me  from  that  vision  of  his  pac- 
ing there  with  his  wife  was  the  conviction  that  his 
fate,  whatever  it  was,  held  him  fast.  It  wouldn't 
let  him  go,  and  all  I  could  ask  of  it  now  was  that 
it  should  let  me.  I  would  go — I  was  going;  if  I 
had  not  had  to  accept  the  interval  of  the  night  I 
should  indeed  already  have  gone.  The  admoni- 
tions of  that  moment — only  confirmed,  I  hasten  to 
add,  by  what  was  still  to  come — were  that  I  should 
catch  in  the  morning,  with  energy,  an  earlier  train 
to  town  than  anyone  else  was  likely  to  take,  and 
get  off  alone  by  it,  bidding  farewell  for  a  long  day  to 
Newmarch.  I  should  be  in  small  haste  to  come 
back,  for  I  should  leave  behind  me  my  tangled 
theory,  no  loose  thread  of  which  need  I  ever  again 
pick  up,  in  no  stray  mesh  of  which  need  my  foot 
again  trip.  It  was  on  my  way  to  the  place,  in  fine, 
that  my  obsession  had  met  me,  and  it  was  by  re- 
tracing those  steps  that  I  should  be  able  to  get  rid 
of  it.  Only  I  must  break  off  sharp,  must  escape 
all  reminders  by  forswearing  all  returns. 

That  was  very  well,  but  it  would  perhaps  have 
been  better  still  if  I  had  gone  straight  to  bed.  In 
that  case  I  should  have  broken  off  sharp — too  sharp 
to  become  aware  of  something  that  kept  me  a  min- 
ute longer  at  the  window  and  that  had  the  instant 
effect  of  making  me  wonder  if,  in  the  interest  of 
observation,  I  mightn't  snap  down  the  electric  light 
that,  playing  just  behind  me,  must  show  where  I 

201 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

stood.  I  resisted  this  impulse  and,  with  the  thought 
that  my  position  was  in  no  way  compromising, 
chanced  being  myself  observed.  I  presently  saw 
moreover  that  I  was  really  not  in  evidence :  I  could 
take  in  freely  what  I  had  at  first  not  been  sure  of, 
the  identity  of  the  figure  stationed  just  within  my 
range,  but  just  out  of  that  of  the  light  projected 
from  my  window.  One  of  the  men  of  our  company 
had  come  out  by  himself  for  a  stroll,  and  the  man 
was  Gilbert  Long.  He  had  paused,  I  made  out, 
in  his  walk;  his  back  was  to  the  house,  and,  resting 
on  the  balustrade  of  the  terrace  with  a  cigarette  in 
his  lips,  he  had  given  way  to  a  sense  of  the  fragrant 
gloom.  He  moved  so  little  that  I  was  sure — mak- 
ing no  turn  that  would  have  made  me  draw  back; 
he  only  smoked  slowly  in  his  place  and  seemed  as 
lost  in  thought  as  I  was  lost  in  my  attention  to  him. 
I  scarce  knew  what  this  told  me;  all  I  felt  was  that, 
however  slight  the  incident  and  small  the  evidence, 
it  essentially  fitted  in.  It  had  for  my  imagination 
a  value,  for  my  theory  a  price,  and  it  in  fact  con- 
stituted an  impression  under  the  influence  of  which 
this  theory,  just  impatiently  shaken  off,  perched 
again  on  my  shoulders.  It  was  of  the  deepest  in- 
terest to  me  to  see  Long  in  such  detachment,  in 
such  apparent  concentration.  These  things  marked 
and  presented  him  more  than  any  had  yet  done, 
and  placed  him  more  than  any  yet  in  relation  to 
other  matters.  They  showed  him,  I  thought,  as 

202 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

serious,  his  situation  as  grave.  I  couldn't  have 
said  what  they  proved,  but  I  was  as  affected  by 
them  as  if  they  proved  everything.  The  proof 
simply  acted  from  the  instant  the  vision  of  him 
alone  there  in  the  warm  darkness  was  caught.  It 
was  just  with  all  that  was  in  the  business  that  he 
was,  that  he  had  fitfully  needed  to  be,  alone.  Ner- 
vous and  restless  after  separating,  under  my  eyes, 
from  Mrs.  Briss,  he  had  wandered  off  to  the  smok- 
ing-room, as  yet  empty;  he  didn't  know  what  to  do 
either,  and  was  incapable  of  bed  and  of  sleep.  He 
had  observed  the  communication  of  the  smoking- 
room  with  the  terrace  and  had  come  out  into  the 
air;  this  was  what  suited  him,  and,  with  pauses  and 
meditations,  much,  possibly,  by  this  time  to  turn 
over,  he  prolonged  his  soft  vigil.  But  he  at  last 
moved,  and  I  found  myself  startled.  I  gave  up 
watching  and  retraced  my  course.  I  felt,  none  the 
less,  fairly  humiliated.  It  had  taken  but  another 
turn  of  an  eye  to  re-establish  all  my  connections. 

I  had  not,  however,  gone  twenty  steps  before  I 
met  Ford  Obert,  who  had  entered  the  corridor  from 
the  other  end  and  was,  as  he  immediately  let  me 
know,  on  his  way  to  the  smoking-room. 

"  Is  everyone  then  dispersing?  " 

"  Some  of  the  men,  I  think,"  he  said,  "  are  follow- 
ing me;  others,  I  believe — wonderful  creatures! — 
have  gone  to  array  themselves.  Others  still,  doubt- 
less, have  gone  to  bed." 

203 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"And  the  ladies?" 

"  Oh,  they've  floated  away — soared  aloft;  to  high 
jinks — isn't  that  the  idea? — in  their  own  quarters. 
Don't  they  too,  at  these  hours,  practise  sociabil- 
ities of  sorts?  They  make,  at  any  rate,  here, 
an  extraordinary  picture  on  that  great  stair- 
case." 

I  thought  a  moment.  "  I  wish  I  had  seen  it. 
But  I  do  see  it.  Yes — splendid.  Is  the  place 
wholly  cleared  of  them?  " 

"  Save,  it  struck  me,  so  far  as  they  may  have 
left  some  '  black  plume  as  a  token  ' " 

"  Not,  I  trust,"  I  returned,  "  of  any  '  lie  '  their 
'  soul  hath  spoken ! '  But  not  one  of  them  lin- 
gers?" 

He  seemed  to  wonder.  " '  Lingers? '  For 
what?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know — in  this  house !  " 

He  looked  at  our  long  vista,  still  lighted — ap- 
peared to  feel  with  me  our  liberal  ease,  which  im- 
plied that  unseen  powers  waited  on  our  good  pleas- 
ure and  sat  up  for  us.  There  is  nothing  like  it  in 
fact,  the  liberal  ease  at  Newmarch.  Yet  Obert 
reminded  me — if  I  needed  the  reminder — that  I 
mustn't  after  all  presume  on  it.  "  Was  one  of  them 
to  linger  for  you?  " 

"  Well,  since  you  ask  me,  it  was  what  I  hoped. 
But  since  you  answer  for  it  that  my  hope  has  not 
been  met,  I  bow  to  a  superior  propriety." 

204 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"  You  mean  you'll  come  and  smoke  with  me? 
Do  then  come." 

"  What,  if  I  do,"  I  asked  with  an  idea,  "  will  you 
give  me?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can  promise  you  nothing  more  that 
/  deal  in  than  a  bad  cigarette." 

"  And  what  then,"  I  went  on,  "  will  you  take  from 
me?" 

He  had  met  my  eyes,  and  now  looked  at  me  a 
little  with  a  smile  that  I  thought  just  conscious. 
"  Well,  I'm  afraid  I  can't  take  any  more " 

"  Of  the  sort  of  stuff,"  I  laughed,  "  you've  al- 
ready had?  Sorry  stuff,  perhaps — a  poor  thing  but 
mine  own !  Such  as  it  is,  I  only  ask  to  keep  it  for 
myself,  and  that  isn't  what  I  meant.  I  meant  what 
flower  will  you  gather,  what  havoc  will  you 
play ?" 

"  Well?  "  he  said  as  I  hesitated. 

"  Among  superstitions  that  I,  after  all,  cherish. 
Mon  siege  est  fait — a  great  glittering  crystal  palace. 
How  many  panes  will  you  reward  me  for  amiably 
sitting  up  with  you  by  smashing?  " 

It  might  have  been  my  mere  fancy — but  it  was 
my  fancy — that  he  looked  at  me  a  trifle  harder. 
"  How  on  earth  can  I  tell  what  you're  talking 
about?" 

I  waited  a  moment,  then  went  on :  "  Did  you 
happen  to  count  them?  " 

"  Count  whom?" 

205 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"Why,  the  ladies  as  they  filed  up.  Was  the 
number  there?  " 

He  gave  a  jerk  of  impatience.  "  Go  and  see  for 
yourself!" 

Once  more  I  just  waited.  "  But  suppose  I 
should  find  Mrs.  Server ?  " 

"  Prowling  there  on  the  chance  of  you?  Well — 
I  thought  she  was  what  you  wanted." 

"  Then,"  I  returned,  "  you  could  tell  what  I  was 
talking  about !  "  For  a  moment  after  this  we  faced 
each  other  without  more  speech,  but  I  presently 
continued :  "  You  didn't  really  notice  if  any  lady 
stayed  behind?" 

"  I  think  you  ask  too  much  of  me,"  he  at  last 
brought  out.  "  Take  care  of  your  ladies,  my  dear 
man,  yourself!  Go,"  he  repeated,  "  and  see." 

"  Certainly — it's  better;  but  I'll  rejoin  you  in 
three  minutes."  And  while  he  went  his  way  to  the 
smoking-room  I  proceeded  without  more  delay  to 
assure  myself,  performing  in  the  opposite  sense  the 
journey  I  had  made  ten  minutes  before.  It  was 
extraordinary  what  the  sight  of  Long  alone  in  the 
outer  darkness  had  done  for  me :  my  expression  of 
it  would  have  been  that  it  had  put  me  "  on  "  again 
at  the  moment  of  my  decidedly  feeling  myself  off. 
I  believed  that  if  I  hadn't  seen  him  I  could  now 
have  gone  to  bed  without  seeing  Mrs.  Briss;  but 
my  renewed  impression  had  suddenly  made  the  dif- 
ference. If  that  was  the  way  he  struck  me,  how 

206 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

might  not,  if  I  could  get  at  her,  she?  And  she 
might,  after  all,  in  the  privacy  at  last  offered  us  by 
empty  rooms,  be  waiting  for  me.  I  went  through 
them  all,  however,  only  to  find  them  empty  indeed. 
In  conformity  with  the  large  allowances  of  every 
sort  that  were  the  law  of  Newmarch,  they  were  still 
open  and  lighted,  so  that  if  I  had  believed  in  Mrs. 
Briss's  reappearance  I  might  conveniently,  on  the 
spot,  have  given  her  five  minutes  more.  I  am  not 
sure,  for  that  matter,  that  I  didn't.  I  remember  at 
least  wondering  if  I  mightn't  ring  somewhere  for  a 
servant  and  cause  a  question  to  be  sent  up  to  her. 
I  didn't  ring,  but  I  must  have  lingered  a  little  on 
the  chance  of  the  arrival  of  servants  to  extinguish 
lights  and  see  the  house  safe.  They  had  not  ar- 
rived, however,  by  the  time  I  again  felt  that  I  must 
give  up. 


207 


XI 

I  GAVE  up  by  going,  decidedly,  to  the  smoking- 
room,  where  several  men  had  gathered  and 
where  Obert,  a  little  apart  from  them,  was  in 
charmed  communion  with  the  bookshelves.  They 
are  wonderful,  everywhere,  at  Newmarch,  the  book- 
shelves, but  he  put  a  volume  back  as  he  saw  me 
come  in,  and  a  moment  later,  when  we  were  seated, 
I  said  to  him  again,  as  a  recall  of  our  previous  pas- 
sage, "  Then  you  could  tell  what  I  was  talking 
about !  "  And  I  added,  to  complete  my  reference, 
"  Since  you  thought  Mrs.  Server  was  the  person 
whom,  when  I  stopped  you,  I  was  sorry  to  learn 
from  you  I  had  missed." 

His  momentary  silence  appeared  to  admit  the 
connection  I  established.  "  Then  you  find  you 
have  missed  her?  She  wasn't  there  for  you?  " 

"There's  no  one  'there  for  me';  so  that  I  fear 
that  if  you  weren't,  as  it  happens,  here  for  me,  my 
amusement  would  be  quite  at  an  end.  I  had,  in 
fact,"  I  continued,  "  already  given  it  up  as  lost  when 
I  came  upon  you,  a  while  since,  in  conversation  with 
the  lady  we've  named.  At  that,  I  confess,  my  pros- 

208 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

pects  gave  something  of  a  flare.  I  said  to  myself 
that  since  your  interest  hadn't  then  wholly  dropped, 
why,  even  at  the  worst,  should  mine?  Yours  was 
mine,  wasn't  it?  for  a  little,  this  morning.  Or  was 
it  mine  that  was  yours?  We  exchanged,  at  any 
rate,  some  lively  impressions.  Only,  before  we  had 
done,  your  effort  dropped  or  your  discretion  inter- 
vened :  you  gave  up,  as  none  of  your  business,  the 
question  that  had  suddenly  tempted  us." 

"  And  you  gave  it  up  too,"  said  my  friend. 

"  Yes,  and  it  was  on  the  idea  that  it  was  mine  as 
little  as  yours  that  we  separated." 

"  Well  then?  "  He  kept  his  eyes,  with  his  head 
thrown  back,  on  the  warm  bindings,  admirable  for 
old  gilt  and  old  colour,  that  covered  the  opposite 
wall. 

"  Well  then,  if  I've  correctly  gathered  that 
you're,  in  spite  of  our  common  renunciation,  still  in- 
terested, I  confess  to  you  that  I  am.  I  took  my  de- 
tachment too  soon  for  granted.  I  haven't  been 
detached.  I'm  not,  hang  me !  detached  now.  And 
it's  all  because  you  were  originally  so  suggestive." 

"Originally?" 

"  Why,  from  the  moment  we  met  here  yesterday 
— the  moment  of  my  first  seeing  you  with  Mrs.  Ser- 
ver. The  look  you  gave  me  then  was  really  the 
beginning  of  everything.  Everything" — and  I 
spoke  now  with  real  conviction — "  was  traceably  to 
spring  from  it." 

209 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"What  do  you  mean,"  he  asked,  "by  every- 
thing? " 

"  Well,  this  failure  of  detachment.  What  you 
said  to  me  as  we  were  going  up  yesterday  afternoon 
to  dress — what  you  said  to  me  then  is  responsible 
for  it.  And  since  it  comes  to  that,"  I  pursued,  "  I 
make  out  for  myself  now  that  you're  not  detached 
either — unless,  that  is,  simply  detached  from  me.  I 
had  indeed  a  suspicion  of  that  as  I  passed  through 
the  room  there." 

He  smoked  through  another  pause.  "  You've 
extraordinary  notions  of  responsibility." 

I  watched  him  a  moment,  but  he  only  stared  at 
the  books  without  looking  round.  Something  in 
his  voice  had  made  me  more  certain,  and  my  cer- 
tainty made  me  laugh.  "  I  see  you  are  serious !  " 

But  he  went  on  quietly  enough.  '  You've  ex- 
traordinary notions  of  responsibility.  I  deny  alto- 
gether mine." 

"  You  are  serious — you  are! "  I  repeated  with  a 
gaiety  that  I  meant  as  inoffensive  and  that  I  believe 
remained  so.  "  But  no  matter.  You're  no  worse 
than  I." 

"  I'm  clearly,  by  your  own  story,  not  half  so  bad. 
But,  as  you  say,  no  matter.  I  don't  care." 

I  ventured  to  keep  it  up.     "  Oh,  don't  you?  " 

His  good  nature  was  proof.     "  I  don't  care." 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  so  much  as  look  at  me  a 
while  ago?  " 

210 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"Didn't  I  look  at  you?" 

"  You  know  perfectly  you  didn't.  Mrs.  Server 
did — with  her  unutterable  intensity;  making  me  feel 
afresh,  by  the  way,  that  I've  never  seen  a  woman 
compromise  herself  so  little  by  proceedings  so 
compromising.  But  though  you  saw  her  inten- 
sity, it  never  diverted  you  for  an  instant  from  your 
own." 

He  lighted  before  he  answered  this  a  fresh  cigar- 
ette. "  A  man  engaged  in  talk  with  a  charming 
woman  scarcely  selects  that  occasion  for  winking 
at  somebody  else." 

"  You  mean  he  contents  himself  with  winking  at 
her?  My  dear  fellow,  that  wasn't  enough  for  you 
yesterday,  and  it  wouldn't  have  been  enough  for 
you  this  morning,  among  the  impressions  that  led 
to  our  last  talk.  It  was  just  the  fact  that  you  did 
wink,  that  you  had  winked,  at  me  that  wound 
me  up." 

"  And  what  about  the  fact  that  you  had  winked 
at  me?  Your  winks — come  " — Obert  laughed — 
"  are  portentous!  " 

"  Oh,  if  we  recriminate,"  I  cheerfully  said  after  a 
moment,  "  we  agree." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure,"  he  returned,  "  that  we  agree." 

"  Ah,  then,  if  we  differ  it's  still  more  interesting. 
Because,  you  know,  we  didn't  differ  either  yester- 
day or  this  morning." 

Without  hurry  or  flurry,  but  with  a  decent  con- 

211 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

fusion,  his  thoughts  went  back.  "  I  thought  you 
said  just  now  we  did — recognising,  as  you  ought, 
that  you  were  keen  about  a  chase  of  which  I  washed 
my  hands." 

"  No — I  wasn't  keen.  You've  just  mentioned 
that  you  remember  my  giving  up.  I  washed  my 
hands  too." 

It  seemed  to  leave  him  with  the  moral  of  this. 
"  Then,  if  our  hands  are  clean,  what  are  we  talking 
about?" 

I  turned,  on  it,  a  little  more  to  him,  and  looked 
at  him  so  long  that  he  had  at  last  to  look  at  me; 
with  which,  after  holding  his  eyes  another  moment, 
I  made  my  point.  "  Our  hands  are  not  clean." 

"  Ah,  speak  for  your  own !  " — and  as  he  moved 
back  I  might  really  have  thought  him  uneasy. 
There  was  a  hint  of  the  same  note  in  the  way  he 
went  on :  "I  assure  you  I  decline  all  responsibility. 
I  see  the  responsibility  as  quite  beautifully  yours." 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  I  only  want  to  be  fair.  You 
were  the  first  to  bring  it  out  that  she  was  changed." 

"  Well,  she  isn't  changed !  "  said  my  friend  with 
an  almost  startling  effect,  for  me,  of  suddenness. 
"  Or  rather,"  he  immediately  and  incongruously 
added,  "  she  is.  She's  changed  back." 

"  '  Back  '?  "     It  made  me  stare. 

"  Back,"  he  repeated  with  a  certain  sharpness  and 
as  if  to  have  done  at  last,  for  himself,  with  the  mud- 
dle of  it. 

212 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

But  there  was  that  in  me  that  could  let  him  see 
he  had  far  from  done;  and  something,  above  all, 
told  me  now  that  he  absolutely  mustn't  have  before 
I  had.  I  quickly  moreover  saw  that  I  must,  with 
an  art,  make  him  want  not  to.  "  Back  to  what  she 
was  when  you  painted  her?  " 

He  had  to  think  an  instant  for  this.  "  No — not 
quite  to  that." 

"To  what  then?" 

He  tried  in  a  manner  to  oblige  me.  "  To  some- 
thing else." 

It  seemed  so,  for  my  thought,  the  gleam  of  some- 
thing that  fitted,  that  I  was  almost  afraid  of  quench- 
ing the  gleam  by  pressure.  I  must  then  get  every- 
thing I  could  from  him  without  asking  too  much. 
"  You  don't  quite  know  to  what  else?  " 

"  No — I  don't  quite  know."  But  there  was  a 
sound  in  it,  this  time,  that  I  took  as  the  hint  of  a 
wish  to  know — almost  a  recognition  that  I  might 
help  him. 

I  helped  him  accordingly  as  I  could  and,  I  may 
add,  as  far  as  the  positive  flutter  he  had  stirred  in 
me  suffered.  It  fitted — it  fitted !  "  If  her  change 
is  to  something  other,  I  suppose  then  a  change  back 
is  not  quite  the  exact  name  for  it." 

"  Perhaps  not."  I  fairly  thrilled  at  his  taking  the 
suggestion  as  if  it  were  an  assistance.  "  She  isn't 
at  any  rate  what  I  thought  her  yesterday." 

It  was  amazing  into  what  depths  this  dropped  for 
213 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

me  and  with  what  possibilities  it  mingled.     "  I  re- 
member what  you  said  of  her  yesterday." 

I  drew  him  on  so  that  I  brought  back  for  him  the 
very  words  he  had  used.  "  She  was  so  beastly  un- 
happy." And  he  used  them  now  visibly  not  as  a 
remembrance  of  what  he  had  said,  but  for  the  con- 
trast of  the  fact  with  what  he  at  present  perceived; 
so  that  the  value  this  gave  for  me  to  what  he  at 
present  perceived  was  immense. 

"And  do  you  mean  that  that's  gone?" 

He  hung  fire,  however,  a  little  as  to  saying  so 
much  what  he  meant,  and  while  he  waited  he  again 
looked  at  me.  "  What  do  you  mean?  Don't  you 
think  so  yourself?  " 

I  laid  my  hand  on  his  arm  and  held  him  a  moment 
with  a  grip  that  betrayed,  I  daresay,  the  effort  in 
me  to  keep  my  thoughts  together  and  lose  not  a 
thread.  It  betrayed  at  once,  doubtless,  the  danger 
of  that  failure  and  the  sharp  foretaste  of  success. 
I  remember  that  with  it,  absolutely,  I  struck  myself 
as  knowing  again  the  joy  of  the  intellectual  mastery 
of  things  unamenable,  that  joy  of  determining,  al- 
most of  creating  results,  which  I  have  already  men- 
tioned as  an  exhilaration  attached  to  some  of  my 
plunges  of  insight.  "  It  would  take  long  to  tell  you 
what  I  mean." 

The  tone  of  it  made  him  fairly  watch  me  as  I  had 
been  watching  him.  "  Well,  haven't  we  got  the 
whole  night?  " 

214 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

"  Oh,  it  would  take  more  than  the  whole  night — 
even  if  we  had  it !  " 

"  By  which  you  suggest  that  we  haven't  it?  " 

"  No — we  haven't  it.     I  want  to  get  away." 

"  To  go  to  bed?     I  thought  you  were  so  keen." 

"  I  am  keen.  Keen  is  no  word  for  it.  I  don't 
want  to  go  to  bed.  I  want  to  get  away." 

"  To  leave  the  house  —  in  the  middle  of  the 
night?" 

"  Yes — absurd  as  it  may  seem.  You  excite  me 
too  much.  You  don't  know  what  you  do  to 
me." 

He  continued  to  look  at  me;  then  he  gave  a  laugh 
which  was  not  the  contradiction,  but  quite  the  at- 
testation, of  the  effect  produced  on  him  by  my  grip. 
If  I  had  wanted  to  hold  him  I  held  him.  It  only 
came  to  me  even  that  I  held  him  too  much.  I  felt 
this  in  fact  with  the  next  thing  he  said.  "  If  you're 
too  excited,  then,  to  be  coherent  now,  will  you  tell 
me  to-morrow?  " 

I  took  time  myself  now  to  relight.  Ridiculous 
as  it  may  sound,  I  had  my  nerves  to  steady;  which 
is  a  proof,  surely,  that  for  real  excitement  there  are 
no  such  adventures  as  intellectual  ones.  "  Oh,  to- 
morrow I  shall  be  off  in  space !  " 

"  Certainly  we  shall  neither  of  us  be  here.  But 
can't  we  arrange,  say,  to  meet  in  town,  or  even  to  go 
up  together  in  such  conditions  as  will  enable  us  to 
talk?  " 

215 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  patted  his  arm  again.  "  Thank  you  for  your 
patience.  It's  really  good  of  you.  Who  knows  if 
I  shall  be  alive  to-morrow?  We  are  meeting.  We 
do  talk." 

But  with  all  I  had  to  think  of  I  must  have  fallen, 
on  this,  into  the  deepest  of  silences,  for  the  next 
thing  I  remember  is  his  returning :  "  We  don't !  " 
I  repeated  my  gesture  of  reassurance,  I  conveyed 
that  I  should  be  with  him  again  in  a  minute,  and 
presently,  while  he  gave  me  time,  he  came  back  to 
something  of  his  own.  "  My  wink,  at  all  events, 
would  have  been  nothing  for  any  question  between 
us,  as  I've  just  said,  without  yours.  That's  what  I 
call  your  responsibility.  It  was,  as  we  put  the  mat- 
ter, the  torch  of  your  analogy " 

"  Oh,  the  torch  of  my  analogy !  " 

I  had  so  groaned  it — as  if  for  very  ecstasy — that 
it  pulled  him  up,  and  I  could  see  his  curiosity  as  in- 
deed reaffected.  But  he  went  on  with  a  coherency 
that  somewhat  admonished  me :  "  It  was  your  mak- 
ing me,  as  I  told  you  this  morning,  think  over  what 
you  had  said  about  Brissenden  and  his  wife :  it  was 
that " 

"  That  made  you  think  over "  —  I  took  him 
straight  up — "  what  you  yourself  had  said  about 
our  troubled  lady?  Yes,  precisely.  That  was  the 
torch  of  my  analogy.  What  I  showed  you  in  the 
one  case  seemed  to  tell  you  what  to  look  for  in  the 
other.  You  thought  it  over.  I  accuse  you  of  noth- 

216 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

ing  worse  than  of  having  thought  it  over.     But  you 
see  what  thinking  it  over  does  for  it." 

The  way  I  said  this  appeared  to  amuse  him.  "  I 
see  what  it  does  for  you! " 

"  No,  you  don't !  Not  at  all  yet.  That's  just  the 
embarrassment." 

"Just  whose?"  If  I  had  thanked  him  for  his 
patience  he  showed  that  he  deserved  it.  "  Just 
yours?  " 

"  Well,    say   mine.     But   when   you   do ! " 

And  I  paused  as  for  the  rich  promise  of  it. 

"  When  I  do  see  where  you  are,  you  mean?  " 

"  The  only  difficulty  is  whether  you  can  see.  But 
we  must  try.  You've  set  me  whirling  round,  but 
we  must  go  step  by  step.  Oh,  but  it's  all  in  your 
germ !  " — I  kept  that  up.  "  If  she  isn't  now  beastly 
unhappy " 

"  She's  beastly  happy? "  he  broke  in,  getting 
firmer  hold,  if  not  of  the  real  impression  he  had  just 
been  gathering  under  my  eyes,  then  at  least  of 
something  he  had  begun  to  make  out  that  my  argu- 
ment required.  "  Well,  that  is  the  way  I  see  her 
difference.  Her  difference,  I  mean,"  he  added,  in 
his  evident  wish  to  work  with  me,  "  her  difference 
from  her  other  difference !  There !  "  He  laughed 
as  if,  also,  he  had  found  himself  fairly  fantastic. 
"  Isn't  that  clear  for  you?  " 

"  Crystalline — for  me.  But  that's  because  I  know 
why." 

217 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  can  see  again  now  the  long  look  that,  on  this, 
he  gave  me.  I  made  out  already  much  of  what  was 
in  it.  "  So  then  do  I !  " 

"  But  how  in  the  world ?  I  know,  for  my- 
self, how  I  know." 

"  So  then  do  I,"  he  after  a  moment  repeated. 

"  And  can  you  tell  me?  " 

"  Certainly.  But  what  I've  already  named  to 
you — the  torch  of  your  analogy." 

I  turned  this  over.  "  You've  made  evidently  an 
admirable  use  of  it.  But  the  wonderful  thing  is 
that  you  seem  to  have  done  so  without  having  all 
the  elements." 

He  on  his  side  considered.  "  What  do  you  call 
all  the  elements?  " 

"  Oh,  it  would  take  me  long  to  tell  you ! "  I 
couldn't  help  laughing  at  the  comparative  simplicity 
with  which  he  asked  it.  "  That's  the  sort  of  thing 
we  just  now  spoke  of  taking  a  day  for.  At  any 
rate,  such  as  they  are,  these  elements,"  I  went 
on,  "  I  believe  myself  practically  in  possession 
of  them.  But  what  I  don't  quite  see  is  how  you 
can  be." 

Well,  he  was  able  to  tell  me.  "  Why  in  the  world 
shouldn't  your  analogy  have  put  me?  "  He  spoke 
with  gaiety,  but  with  lucidity.  "  I'm  not  an  idiot 
either." 

"  I  see."     But  there  was  so  much ! 

"  Did  you  think  I  was?  "  he  amiably  asked. 
218 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  No.  I  see,"  I  repeated.  Yet  I  didn't,  really, 
fully;  which  he  presently  perceived. 

"  You  made  me  think  of  your  view  of  the  Bris- 
senden  pair  till  I  could  think  of  nothing  else." 

"  Yes— yes,"  I  said.     "  Go  on." 

"  Well,  as  you  had  planted  the  theory  in  me,  it 
began  to  bear  fruit.  I  began  to  watch  them.  I 
continued  to  watch  them.  I  did  nothing  but  watch 
them." 

The  sudden  lowering  of  his  voice  in  this  confes- 
sion— as  if  it  had  represented  a  sort  of  darkening  of 
his  consciousness — again  amused  me.  '  You  too? 
How  then  we've  been  occupied!  For  I,  you  see, 
have  watched — or  had,  until  I  found  you  just  now 
with  Mrs.  Server — everyone,  everything  but  you." 

"  Oh,  I've  watched  you"  said  Ford  Obert  as  if  he 
had  then  perhaps  after  all  the  advantage  of  me.  "  I 
admit  that  I  made  you  out  for  myself  to  be  back  on 
the  scent;  for  I  thought  I  made  you  out  baffled." 

To  learn  whether  I  really  had  been  was,  I  saw, 
what  he  would  most  have  liked;  but  I  also  saw  that 
he  had,  as  to  this,  a  scruple  about  asking  me.  What 
I  most  saw,  however,  was  that  to  tell  him  I  should 
have  to  understand.  "  What  scent  do  you  allude 
to?" 

He  smiled  as  if  I  might  have  fancied  I  could  fence. 
"  Why,  the  pursuit  of  the  identification  that's  none 
of  our  business — the  identification  of  her  lover." 

"  Ah,  it's  as  to  that,"  I  instantly  replied,  "  you've 
219 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

judged  me  baffled?  I'm  afraid,"  I  almost  as  quick- 
ly added,  "  that  I  must  admit  I  have  been.  Luckily, 
at  all  events,  it  is  none  of  our  business." 

:'  Yes,"  said  my  friend,  amused  on  his  side, 
"  nothing's  our  business  that  we  can't  find  out.  I 
saw  you  hadn't  found  him.  And  what,"  Obert  con- 
tinued, "  does  he  matter  now?  " 

It  took  but  a  moment  to  place  me  for  seeing  that 
my  companion's  conviction  on  this  point  was  a  con- 
viction decidedly  to  respect;  and  even  that  amount 
of  hesitation  was  but  the  result  of  my  wondering 
how  he  had  reached  it.  "What,  indeed?"  I 
promptly  replied.  "  But  how  did  you  see  I  had 
failed?" 

"  By  seeing  that  I  myself  had.  For  I've  been 
looking  too.  He  isn't  here,"  said  Ford  Obert. 

Delighted  as  I  was  that  he  should  believe  it,  I  was 
yet  struck  by  the  complacency  of  his  confidence, 
which  connected  itself  again  with  my  observation 
of  their  so  recent  colloquy.  "  Oh,  for  you  to  be  so 
sure,  has  Mrs.  Server  squared  you?  " 

"  Is  he  here?  "  he  for  all  answer  to  this  insistently 
asked. 

I  faltered  but  an  instant.  "  No;  he  isn't  here. 
It's  no  thanks  to  one's  scruples,  but  perhaps  it's 
lucky  for  one's  manners.  I  speak  at  least  for  mine. 
If  you've  watched,"  I  pursued,  "  you've  doubtless 
sufficiently  seen  what  has  already  become  of  mine. 
He  isn't  here,  at  all  events,"  I  repeated,  "  and  we 

220 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

must  do  without  his  identity.  What,  in  fact,  are  we 
showing  each  other,"  I  asked,  "  but  that  we  have 
done  without  it?  " 

"  7  have !  "  my  friend  declared  with  supreme 
frankness  and  with  something  of  the  note,  as  I  was 
obliged  to  recognise,  of  my  own  constructive  joy. 
"  I've  done  perfectly  without  it." 

I  saw  in  fact  that  he  had,  and  it  struck  me  really 
as  wonderful.  But  I  controlled  the  expression  of 
my  wonder.  "  So  that  if  you  spoke  therefore  just 
now  of  watching  them " 

"  I  meant  of  course  " — he  took  it  straight  up — 
"  watching  the  Brissendens.  And  naturally,  above 
all,"  he  as  quickly  subjoined,  "  the  wife." 

I  was  now  full  of  concurrence.  "  Ah,  naturally, 
above  all,  the  wife." 

So  far  as  was  required  it  encouraged  him.  "  A 
woman's  lover  doesn't  matter — doesn't  matter  at 
least  to  anyone  but  himself,  doesn't  matter  to  you 
or  to  me  or  to  her — when  once  she  has  given  him 
up." 

It  made  me,  this  testimony  of  his  observation, 
show,  in  spite  of  my  having  by  this  time  so  counted 
on  it,  something  of  the  vivacity  of  my  emotion. 
"  She  has  given  him  up?  " 

But  the  surprise  with  which  he  looked  round  put 
me  back  on  my  guard.  "  Of  what  else  then  are  we 
talking?" 

"  Of  nothing  else,   of   course,"   I   stammered. 

221 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  But  the  way  you  see !  "  I  found  my  refuge 

in  the  gasp  of  my  admiration. 

"  I  do  see.  But  " — he  would  come  back  to  that 
— "  only  through  your  having  seen  first.  You  gave 
me  the  pieces.  I've  but  put  them  together.  You 
gave  me  the  Brissendens — bound  hand  and  foot; 
and  I've  but  made  them,  in  that  sorry  state,  pull  me 
through.  I've  blown  on  my  torch,  in  other  words, 
till,  flaring  and  smoking,  it  has  guided  me,  through 
a  magnificent  chiaroscuro  of  colour  and  shadow, 
out  into  the  light  of  day." 

I  was  really  dazzled  by  his  image,  for  it  repre- 
sented his  personal  work.  "  You've  done  more 
than  I,  it  strikes  me — and  with  less  to  do  it  with. 
If  I  gave  you  the  Brissendens  I  gave  you  all  I 
had." 

"  But  all  you  had  was  immense,  my  dear  man. 
The  Brissendens  are  immense." 

"  Of  course  the  Brissendens  are  immense !  If 
they  hadn't  been  immense  they  wouldn't  have  been 
— nothing  would  have  been  —  anything."  Then 
after  a  pause,  "  Your  image  is  splendid,"  I  went 
on — "  your  being  out  of  the  cave.  But  what  is  it 
exactly,"  I  insidiously  threw  out,  "  that  you  call  the 
Might  of  day'?" 

I  remained  a  moment,  however,  not  sure  whether 
I  had  been  too  subtle  or  too  simple.  He  had  an- 
other of  his  cautions.  "  What  do  you ?  " 

But  I  was  determined  to  make  him  give  it  me 

222 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

all  himself,  for  it  was  from  my  not  prompting  him 
that  its  value  would  come.  "  You  tell  me,"  I  ac- 
cordingly rather  crudely  pleaded,  "  first." 

It  gave  us  a  moment  during  which  he  so  looked 
as  if  I  asked  too  much,  that  I  had  a  fear  of  losing 
all.  He  even  spoke  with  some  impatience.  "  If 
you  really  haven't  found  it  for  yourself,  you  know. 
I  scarce  see  what  you  can  have  found." 

Then  I  had  my  inspiration.  I  risked  an  approach 
to  roughness,  and  all  the  more  easily  that  my  words 
were  strict  truth.  "  Oh,  don't  be  afraid — greater 
things  than  yours !  " 

It  succeeded,  for  it  played  upon  his  curiosity,  and 
he  visibly  imagined  that,  with  impatience  con- 
trolled, he  should  learn  what  these  things  were.  He 
relaxed,  he  responded,  and  the  next  moment  I  was 
in  all  but  full  enjoyment  of  the  piece  wanted  to  make 
all  my  other  pieces  right — right  because  of  that 
special  beauty  in  my  scheme  through  which  the 
whole  depended  so  on  each  part  and  each  part  so 
guaranteed  the  whole.  "  What  I  call  the  light  of 
day  is  the  sense  I've  arrived  at  of  her  vision." 

"  Her  vision?  " — I  just  balanced  in  the  air. 

"  Of  what  they  have  in  common.  His — poor 
chap's — extraordinary  situation  too." 

"  Bravo !    And  you  see  in  that ?  " 

"  What,  all  these  hours,  has  touched,  fascinated, 
drawn  her.  It  has  been  an  instinct  with  her." 

"  Bravissimo ! " 

223 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

It  saw  him,  my  approval,  safely  into  port.  "  The 
instinct  of  sympathy,  pity — the  response  to  fellow- 
ship in  misery;  the  sight  of  another  fate  as  strange, 
as  monstrous  as  her  own." 

I  couldn't  help  jumping  straight  up — I  stood  be- 
fore him.  "  So  that  whoever  may  have  been  the 
man,  the  man  now,  the  actual  man " 

"  Oh,"  said  Obert,  looking,  luminous  and 
straight,  up  at  me  from  his  seat,  "  the  man  now, 

the  actual  man !  "  But  he  stopped  short,  with 

his  eyes  suddenly  quitting  me  and  his  words  becom- 
ing a  formless  ejaculation.  The  door  of  the  room, 
to  which  my  back  was  turned,  had  opened,  and  I 
quickly  looked  round.  It  was  Brissenden  himself 
who,  to  my  supreme  surprise,  stood  there,  with 
rapid  inquiry  in  his  attitude  and  face.  I  saw,  as 
soon  as  he  caught  mine,  that  I  was  what  he  wanted, 
and,  immediately  excusing  myself  for  an  instant  to 
Obert,  I  anticipated,  by  moving  across  the  room, 
the  need,  on  poor  Briss's  part,  of  my  further  demon- 
stration. My  whole  sense  of  the  situation  blazed 
up  at  the  touch  of  his  presence,  and  even  before  I 
reached  him  it  had  rolled  over  me  in  a  prodigious 
wave  that  I  had  lost  nothing  whatever.  I  can't  be- 
gin to  say  how  the  fact  of  his  appearance  crowned 
the  communication  my  interlocutor  had  just  made 
me,  nor  in  what  a  bright  confusion  of  many  things 
I  found  myself  facing  poor  Briss.  One  of  these 
things  was  precisely  that  he  had  never  been  so  much 

224 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

poor  Briss  as  at  this  moment.  That  ministered  to 
the  confusion  as  well  as  to  the  brightness,  for  if  his 
being  there  at  all  renewed  my  sources  and  replen- 
ished my  current — spoke  all,  in  short,  for  my  gain — 
so,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  light  of  what  I  had  just 
had  from  Obert,  his  particular  aspect  was  some- 
thing of  a  shock.  I  can't  present  this  especial  im- 
pression better  than  by  the  mention  of  my  instant 
certitude  that  what  he  had  come  for  was  to  bring 
me  a  message  and  that  somehow — yes,  indubitably 
— this  circumstance  seemed  to  have  placed  him 
again  at  the  very  bottom  of  his  hole.  It  was  down 
in  that  depth  that  he  let  me  see  him — it  was  out  of 
it  that  he  delivered  himself.  Poor  Briss!  poor 
Briss! — I  had  asked  myself  before  he  spoke  with 
what  kindness  enough  I  could  meet  him.  Poor 
Briss !  poor  Briss ! — I  am  not  even  now  sure  that  I 
didn't  first  meet  him  by  that  irrepressible  murmur. 
It  was  in  it  all  for  me  that,  thus,  at  midnight,  he 
had  traversed  on  his  errand  the  length  of  the  great 
dark  house.  I  trod  with  him,  over  the  velvet  and 
the  marble,  through  the  twists  and  turns,  among 
the  glooms  and  glimmers  and  echoes,  every  inch 
of  the  way,  and  I  don't  know  what  humiliation,  for 
him,  was  constituted  there,  between  us,  by  his  long 
pilgrimage.  It  was  the  final  expression  of  his  sac- 
rifice. 

"  My  wife  has  something  to  say  to  you." 
"  Mrs.  Briss?     Good!  " — and  I  could  only  hope 
225 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

the  candour  of  my  surprise  was  all  I  tried  to  make 
it.  "  Is  she  with  you  there?  " 

"  No,  but  she  has  asked  me  to  say  to  you  that 
if  you'll  presently  be  in  the  drawing-room  she'll 
come." 

Who  could  doubt,  as  I  laid  my  hand  on  his  shoul- 
der, fairly  patting  it,  in  spite  of  myself,  for  applause 
— who  could  doubt  where  I  would  presently  be? 
"  It's  most  uncommonly  good  of  both  of  you." 

There  was  something  in  his  inscrutable  service 
that,  making  him  almost  august,  gave  my  dissimu- 
lated eagerness  the  sound  of  a  heartless  compliment. 
7  stood  for  the  hollow  chatter  of  the  vulgar  world, 
and  he — oh,  he  was  as  serious  as  he  was  conscious; 
which  was  enough.  "  She  says  you'll  know  what 
she  wishes — and  she  was  sure  I'd  find  you  here.  So 
I  may  tell  her  you'll  come?  " 

His  courtesy  half  broke  my  heart.  "  Why,  my 

dear  man,  with  all  the  pleasure !  So  many 

thousand  thanks.  I'll  be  with  her." 

"  Thanks  to  you.  She'll  be  down.  Good-night." 
He  looked  round  the  room — at  the  two  or  three 
clusters  of  men,  smoking,  engaged,  contented,  on 
their  easy  seats  and  among  their  popped  corks;  he 
looked  over  an  instant  at  Ford  Obert,  whose  eyes, 
I  thought,  he  momentarily  held.  It  was  absolutely 
as  if,  for  me,  he  were  seeking  such  things — out  of 
what  was  closing  over  him — for  the  last  time.  Then 
he  turned  again  to  the  door,  which,  just  not  to  fail 

226 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

humanly  to  accompany  him  a  step,  I  had  opened. 
On  the  other  side  of  it  I  took  leave  of  him.  The 
passage,  though  there  was  a  light  in  the  distance, 
was  darker  than  the  smoking-room,  and  I  had 
drawn  the  door  to. 

"  Good-night,  Brissenden.  I  shall  be  gone  to- 
morrow before  you  show." 

I  shall  never  forget  the  way  that,  struck  by  my 
word,  he  let  his  white  face  fix  me  in  the  dusk. 
"'Show'?  What  do  I  shovr?  " 

I  had  taken  his  hand  for  farewell,  and,  inevitably 
laughing,  but  as  the  falsest  of  notes,  I  gave  it  a 
shake.  "  You  show  nothing !  You're  magnifi- 
cent." 

He  let  me  keep  his  hand  while  things  un- 
spoken and  untouched,  unspeakable  and  untouch- 
able, everything  that  had  been  between  us  in  the 
wood  a  few  hours  before,  were  between  us  again. 
But  so  we  could  only  leave  them,  and,  with  a  short, 
sharp  "  Good-bye !  "  he  completely  released  himself. 
With  my  hand  on  the  latch  of  the  closed  door  I 
watched  a  minute  his  retreat  along  the  passage,  and 
I  remember  the  reflection  that,  before  rejoining 
Obert,  I  made  on  it.  I  seemed  perpetually,  at 
Newmarch,  to  be  taking  his  measure  from  behind. 

Ford  Obert  has  since  told  me  that  when  I  came 
back  to  him  there  were  tears  in  my  eyes,  and  I  didn't 
know  at  the  moment  how  much  the  words  with 
which  he  met  me  took  for  granted  my  conscious- 

227 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

ness  of  them.  "  He  looks  a  hundred  years 
old!" 

"  Oh,  but  you  should  see  his  shoulders,  always, 
as  he  goes  off!  Two  centuries — ten!  Isn't  it 
amazing?  " 

It  was  so  amazing  that,  for  a  little,  it  made  us 
reciprocally  stare.  "  I  should  have  thought,"  he 
said,  "  that  he  would  have  been  on  the  con- 
trary  " 

"Visibly  rejuvenated?  So  should  I.  I  must 
make  it  out,"  I  added.  "  I  shall" 

But  Obert,  with  less  to  go  upon,  couldn't  wait. 
It  was  wonderful,  for  that  matter — and  for  all  I  had 
to  go  upon — how  I  myself  could.  I  did  so,  at  this 
moment,  in  my  refreshed  intensity,  by  the  help  of 
confusedly  lighting  another  cigarette,  which  I 
should  have  no  time  to  smoke.  "  I  should  have 
thought,"  my  friend  continued,  "  that  he  too  might 
have  changed  back." 

I  took  in,  for  myself,  so  much  more  of  it  than 
I  could  say !  "  Certainly.  You  wouldn't  have 
thought  he  would  have  changed  forward."  Then 
with  an  impulse  that  bridged  over  an  abyss  of  con- 
nections I  jumped  to  another  place.  "  Was  what 
you  most  saw  while  you  were  there  with  her — was 
this  that  her  misery,  the  misery  you  first  phrased 
to  me,  has  dropped?  " 

"  Dropped,  yes."  He  was  clear  about  it.  "  I 
called  her  beastly  unhappy  to  you  though  I  even 

228 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

then  knew  that  beastly  unhappiness  wasn't  quite 
all  of  it.  It  was  part  of  it,  it  was  enough  of  it;  for 
she  was — well,  no  doubt  you  could  tell  me.  Just 
now,  at  all  events  " — and  recalling,  reflecting,  de- 
ciding, he  used,  with  the  strongest  effect,  as  he  so 
often  did  in  painting,  the  simplest  term — "  just  now 
she's  all  right." 

"All  right?" 

He  couldn't  know  how  much  more  than  was  pos- 
sible my  question  gave  him  to  answer.  But  he 
answered  it  on  what  he  had;  he  repeated:  "All 
right." 

I  wondered,  in  spite  of  the  comfort  I  took,  as  I  had 
more  than  once  in  life  had  occasion  to  take  it  be- 
fore, at  the  sight  of  the  painter-sense  deeply  ap- 
plied. My  wonder  came  from  the  fact  that  Lady 
John  had  also  found  Mrs.  Server  all  right,  and  Lady 
John  had  a  vision  as  closed  as  Obert's  was  open.  It 
didn't  suit  my  book  for  both  these  observers  to  have 
been  affected  in  the  same  way.  "  You  mean  you 
saw  nothing  whatever  in  her  that  was  the  least  bit 
strange?" 

"  Oh,  I  won't  say  as  much  as  that.  But  nothing 
that  was  more  strange  than  that  she  should  be — 
well,  after  all,  all  right." 

"  All  there,  eh?  "  I  after  an  instant  risked. 

I  couldn't  put  it  to  him  more  definitely  than  that, 
though  there  was  a  temptation  to  try  to  do  so. 
For  Obert  to  have  found  her  all  there  an  hour  or 

229 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

two  after  I  had  found  her  all  absent,  made  me  again, 
in  my  nervousness,  feel  even  now  a  trifle  menaced. 
Things  had,  from  step  to  step,  to  hang  together, 
and  just  here  they  seemed — with  all  allowances — to 
hang  a  little  apart.  My  whole  superstructure,  I 
could  only  remember,  reared  itself  on  my  view  of 
Mrs.  Server's  condition;  but  it  was  part  of  my  pre- 
dicament— really  equal  in  its  way  to  her  own — that 
I  couldn't  without  dishonouring  myself  give  my 
interlocutor  a  practical  lead.  The  question  of  her 
happiness  was  essentially  subordinate;  what  I  stood 
or  fell  by  was  that  of  her  faculty.  But  I  couldn't, 
on  the  other  hand — and  remain  "  straight  " — insist 
to  my  friend  on  the  whereabouts  of  this  stolen 
property.  If  he  hadn't  missed  it  in  her  for  himself 
I  mightn't  put  him  on  the  track  of  it;  since,  with 
the  demonstration  he  had  before  my  eyes  received 
of  the  rate  at  which  Long  was,  as  one  had  to  call  it, 
intellectually  living,  nothing  would  be  more  natural 
than  that  he  should  make  the  cases  fit.  Now  my 
personal  problem,  unaltered  in  the  least  particular 
by  anything,  was  for  me  to  have  worked  to  the  end 
without  breathing  in  another  ear  that  Long  had 
been  her  lover.  That  was  the  only  thing  in  the 
whole  business  that  was  simple.  It  made  me  cling 
an  instant  the  more,  both  for  bliss  and  bale,  to  the 
bearing  of  this  fact  of  Obert's  insistence.  Even  as 
a  sequel  to  his  vision  of  her  change,  almost  every- 
thing was  wrong  for  her  being  all  right  except  the 

230 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

one  fact  of  my  recent  view,  from  the  window,  of  the 
man  unnamed.  I  saw  him  again  sharply  in  these 
seconds,  and  to  notice  how  he  still  kept  clear  of  our 
company  was  almost  to  add  certitude  to  the  pre- 
sumption of  his  rare  reasons.  Mrs.  Server's  being 
now,  by  a  wonderful  turn,  all  right  would  at  least 
decidedly  offer  to  these  reasons  a  basis.  It  would 
be  something  Long's  absence  would  fit.  It  would 
supply  ground,  in  short,  for  the  possibility  that,  by 
a  process  not  less  wonderful,  he  himself  was  all 
wrong.  If  he  was  all  wrong  my  last  impression  of 
him  would  be  amply  accounted  for.  If  he  was  all 
wrong — if  he,  in  any  case,  felt  himself  going  so — 
what  more  consequent  than  that  he  should  have 
wished  to  hide  it,  and  that  the  most  immediate  way 
for  this  should  have  seemed  to  him,  markedly  gre- 
garious as  he  usually  was,  to  keep  away  from  the 
smokers?  It  came  to  me  unspeakably  that  he  ivas 
still  hiding  it  and  was  keeping  away.  How,  ac- 
cordingly, must  he  not — and  must  not  Mrs.  Briss — 
have  been  in  the  spirit  of  this  from  the  moment 
that,  while  I  talked  with  Lady  John,  the  sight  of 
these  two  seated  together  had  given  me  its  mes- 
sage! But  Obert's  answer  to  my  guarded  chal- 
lenge had  meanwhile  come.  "  Oh,  when  a  woman's 

so  clever ! " 

That  was  all,  with  its  touch  of  experience  and  its 
hint  of  philosophy;  but  it  was  stupefying.  She  was 
already  then  positively  again  "  so  clever?  "  This 

231 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

was  really  more  than  I  could  as  yet  provide  an  ex- 
planation for,  but  I  was  pressed;  Brissenden  would 
have  reached  his  wife's  room  again,  and  I  tempo- 
rised. "  It  was  her  cleverness  that  held  you  so  that 
when  I  passed  you  couldn't  look  at  me?  " 

He  looked  at  me  at  present  well  enough.  "  I 
knew  you  were  passing,  but  I  wanted  precisely  to 
mark  for  you  the  difference.  If  you  really  want  to 
know,"  the  poor  man  confessed,  "  I  was  a  little 
ashamed  of  myself.  I  had  given  her  away  to  you, 
you  know,  rather,  before." 

"  And  you  were  bound  you  wouldn't  do  it 
again?" 

He  smiled  in  his  now  complete  candour.  "  Ah, 
there  was  no  reason."  Then  he  used,  happily,  to 
right  himself,  my  own  expression.  "  She  was  all 
there." 

"  I  see— I  see."  Yet  I  really  didn't  see  enough 
not  to  have  for  an  instant  to  turn  away. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  he  asked. 

"  To  do  what  Brissenden  came  to  me  for." 

"  But  I  don't  know,  you  see,  what  Brissenden 
came  to  you  for." 

"  Well,  with  a  message.  She  was  to  have  seen 
me  this  evening,  but,  as  she  gave  me  no  chance, 
I  was  afraid  I  had  lost  it  and  that,  so  rather  awk- 
wardly late,  she  didn't  venture.  But  what  he  ar- 
rived for  just  now,  at  her  request,  was  to  say  she 
does  venture." 

232 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

My  companion  stared.  "  At  this  extraordinary 
hour?  " 

"  Ah,  the  hour,"  I  laughed,  "  is  no  more  ex- 
traordinary than  any  other  part  of  the  business :  no 
more  so,  for  instance,  than  this  present  talk  of  yours 
and  mine.  What  part  of  the  business  isn't  ex- 
traordinary? If  it  is,  at  all  events,  remarkably  late, 
that's  her  fault." 

Yet  he  not  unnaturally,  in  spite  of  my  explana- 
tion, continued  to  wonder.  "  And — a — where  is  it 
then  you  meet?  " 

"  Oh,  in  the  drawing-room  or  the  hall.  So 
good-night." 

He  got  up  to  it,  moving  with  me  to  the  door;  but 
his  mystification,  little  as  I  could,  on  the  whole, 
soothe  it,  still  kept  me.  "  The  household  sits  up 
for  you?" 

I  wondered  myself,  but  found  an  assurance. 
"  She  must  have  squared  the  household !  And  it 
won't  probably  take  us  very  long." 

His  mystification  frankly  confessed  itself,  at  this, 
plain  curiosity.  The  ground  of  such  a  conference, 
for  all  the  point  I  had  given  his  ingenuity,  simply 
baffled  him.  "  Do  you  mean  you  propose  to  dis- 
cuss with  her ?  " 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  I  smiled  with  my  hand  on  the 
door,  "  it's  she — don't  you  see? — who  proposes." 

"  But  what  in  the  world ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  I  shall  have  to  wait  to  tell  you." 

233 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  With  all  the  other  things?  "  His  face,  while  he 
sounded  mine,  seemed  to  say  that  I  must  then  take 
his  expectation  as  serious.  But  it  seemed  to  say 
also  that  he  was — definitely,  yes — more  at  a  loss 
than  consorted  with  being  quite  sure  of  me. 

"Well,  it  will  make  a  lot,  really !"  But  he 

broke  off.  "  You  do,"  he  sighed  with  an  effort  at 
resignation,  "  know  more  than  I!  " 

"  And  haven't  I  admitted  that?  " 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  you  don't  know  who  he  is! " 
the  poor  fellow,  for  all  answer,  now  produced. 

He  said  it  as  if  I  had,  after  all,  not  been  playing 
fair,  and  it  made  me  for  an  instant  hesitate.  "  No, 
I  really  don't  know.  But  it's  exactly  what  I  shall 
perhaps  now  learn." 

"  You  mean  that  what  she  has  proposed  is  to  tell 
you?" 

His  darkness  had  so  deepened  that  I  saw  only 
now  what  I  should  have  seen  sooner — the  miscon- 
ception that,  in  my  excessive  estimate  of  the  dis- 
tance he  had  come  with  me,  I  had  not  at  first 
caught.  But  it  was  a  misconception  that  only  en- 
riched his  testimony;  it  involved  such  a  conviction 
of  the  new  link  between  our  two  sacrificed  friends 
that  it  immediately  constituted  for  me  the  strongest 
light  he  would,  in  our  whole  talk,  have  thrown. 
Yes,  he  had  not  yet  thrown  so  much  as  in  this  er- 
roneous supposition  of  the  source  of  my  summons. 
It  took  me  of  course,  at  the  same  time,  but  a  few 

234 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

seconds  to  remind  myself  again  of  the  innumerable 
steps  he  had  necessarily  missed.  His  question 
meanwhile,  rightly  applied  by  my  own  thought, 
brought  back  to  that  thought,  by  way  of  answer, 
an  immense  suggestion,  which  moreover,  for  him 
too,  was  temporarily  answer  enough.  "  She'll  tell 
me  who  he  won't  have  been !  " 

He  looked  vague.     "  Ah,  but  that " 

"  That,"  I  declared,  "  will  be  luminous." 
He  made  it  out.     "  As  a  sign,  you  think,  that  he 
must  be  the  very  one  she  denies?  " 

"  The  very  one !  "  I  laughed;  and  I  left  him  under 
this  simple  and  secure  impression  that  my  appoint- 
ment was  with  Mrs.  Server. 


235 


XII 


I  WENT  from  one  room  to  the  other,  but  to  find 
only,  at  first,  as  on  my  previous  circuit,  a 
desert  on  which  the  sun  had  still  not  set.  Mrs. 
Brissenden  was  nowhere,  but  the  whole  place  wait- 
ed as  we  had  left  it,  with  seats  displaced  and  flowers 
dispetalled,  a  fan  forgotten  on  a  table,  a  book  laid 
down  upon  a  chair.  It  came  over  me  as  I  looked 
about  that  if  she  had  "  squared  "  the  household,  so 
large  an  order,  as  they  said,  was  a  sign  sufficient 
of  what  I  was  to  have  from  her.  I  had  quite  rather 
it  were  her  doing — not  mine;  but  it  showed  with 
eloquence  that  she  had  after  all  judged  some  effort 
or  other  to  be  worth  her  while.  Her  renewed  delay 
moreover  added  to  my  impatience  of  mind  in  re- 
spect to  the  nature  of  this  effort  by  striking  me  as 
already  part  of  it.  What,  I  asked  myself,  could  be 
so  much  worth  her  while  as  to  have  to  be  paid  for 
by  so  much  apparent  reluctance?  But  at  last  I  saw 
her  through  a  vista  of  open  doors,  and  as  I  forth- 
with went  to  her — she  took  no  step  to  meet  me — 
I  was  doubtless  impressed  afresh  with  the  "  pull " 
that  in  social  intercourse  a  woman  always  has.  She 
was  able  to  assume  on  the  spot  by  mere  attitude 

236 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

and  air  the  appearance  of  having  been  ready  and 
therefore  inconvenienced.  Oh,  I  saw  soon  enough 
that  she  was  ready  and  that  one  of  the  forms  of  her 
readiness  would  be  precisely  to  offer  herself  as  hav- 
ing acted  entirely  to  oblige  me — to  give  me,  as  a 
sequel  to  what  had  already  passed  between  us,  the 
opportunity  for  which  she  had  assured  me  I  should 
thank  her  before  I  had  done  with  her.  Yet,  as  I 
felt  sure,  at  the  same  time,  that  she  had  taken  a  line, 
I  was  curious  as  to  how,  in  her  interest,  our  situa- 
tion could  be  worked.  What  it  had  originally  left 
us  with  was  her  knowing  I  was  wrong.  I  had  prom- 
ised her,  on  my  honour,  to  be  candid,  but  even  if  I 
were  disposed  to  cease  to  contest  her  identification 
of  Mrs.  Server  I  was  scarce  to  be  looked  to  for  such 
an  exhibition  of  gratitude  as  might  be  held  to  repay 
her  for  staying  so  long  out  of  bed.  There  were  in 
short  elements  in  the  business  that  I  couldn't  quite 
clearly  see  handled  as  favours  to  me.  Her  dress 
gave,  with  felicity,  no  sign  whatever  of  preparation 
for  the  night,  and  if,  since  our  last  words,  she  had 
stood  with  any  anxiety  whatever  before  her  glass, 
it  had  not  been  to  remove  a  jewel  or  to  alter  the 
place  of  a  flower.  She  was  as  much  under  arms  as 
she  had  been  on  descending  to  dinner — as  fresh  in 
her  array  as  if  that  banquet  were  still  to  come.  She 
met  me  in  fact  as  admirably — that  was  the  truth 
that  covered  every  other — as  if  she  had  been  able 
to  guess  the  most  particular  curiosity  with  which, 

237 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

from  my  end  of  the  series  of  rooms,  I  advanced 
upon  her. 

A  part  of  the  mixture  of  my  thoughts  during 
these  seconds  had  been  the  possibility — absurd, 
preposterous  though  it  looks  when  phrased  here — 
of  some  change  in  her  person  that  would  corre- 
spond, for  me  to  the  other  changes  I  had  had  such 
keen  moments  of  flattering  myself  I  had  made  out. 
I  had  just  had  them  over  in  the  smoking-room, 
some  of  these  differences,  and  then  had  had  time  to 
ask  myself  if  I  were  not  now  to  be  treated  to  the 
vision  of  the  greatest,  the  most  wonderful,  of  all.  I 
had  already,  on  facing  her,  after  my  last  moments 
with  Lady  John,  seen  difference  peep  out  at  me,  and 
I  had  seen  the  impression  of  it  confirmed  by  what 
had  afterwards  happened.  It  had  been  in  her  way 
of  turning  from  me  after  that  brief  passage;  it  had 
been  in  her  going  up  to  bed  without  seeing  me 
again;  it  had  been  once  more  in  her  thinking,  for 
reasons  of  her  own,  better  of  that;  and  it  had  been 
most  of  all  in  her  sending  her  husband  down  to 
me.  Well,  wouldn't  it  finally  be,  still  more  than 

most  of  all ?     But  I  scarce  had  known,  at  this 

point,  what  grossness  or  what  fineness  of  material 
correspondence  to  forecast.  I  only  had  waited 
there  with  these  general  symptoms  so  present  that 
almost  any  further  development  of  them  occurred 
to  me  as  conceivable.  So  much  as  this  was  true, 
but  I  was  after  a  moment  to  become  aware  of  some- 

238 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

thing  by  which  I  was  as  strongly  affected  as  if  I 
had  been  quite  unprepared.  Yes,  literally,  that 
final  note,  in  the  smoking-room,  the  note  struck  in 
Obert's  ejaculation  on  poor  Briss's  hundred  years, 
had  failed  to  achieve  for  me  a  worthy  implication. 
I  was  forced,  after  looking  at  Grace  Brissenden  a 
minute,  to  recognise  that  my  imagination  had  not 
risen  to  its  opportunity.  The  full  impression  took 
a  minute — a  minute  during  which  she  said  nothing; 
then  it  left  me  deeply  and  above  all,  as  I  felt,  dis- 
cernibly  conscious  of  the  prodigious  thing,  the 
thing,  I  had  not  thought  of.  This  it  was  that  gave 
her  such  a  beautiful  chance  not  to  speak:  she  was 
so  quite  sufficiently  occupied  with  seeing  what  I 
hadn't  thought  of,  and  with  seeing  me,  to  make  up 
for  lost  time,  breathlessly  think  of  it  while  she 
watched  me. 

All  I  had  at  first  taken  in  was,  as  I  say,  her  un- 
touched splendour;  I  don't  know  why  that  should 
have  impressed  me — -as  if  it  had  been  probable  she 
would  have  appeared  in  her  dressing-gown;  it  was 
the  only  thing  to  have  expected.  And  it  in  fact 
plumed  and  enhanced  her  assurance,  sustained  her 
propriety,  lent  our  belated  interview  the  natural  and 
casual  note.  But  there  was  another  service  it  still 
more  rendered  her :  it  so  covered,  at  the  first  blush, 
the  real  message  of  her  aspect,  that  she  enjoyed  the 
luxury — and  I  felt  her  enjoy  it — of  seeing  my  per- 
ception in  arrest.  Amazing,  when  I  think  of  it, 

239 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

the  number  of  things  that  occurred  in  these  stayed 
seconds  of  our  silence;  but  they  are  perhaps  best 
represented  by  the  two  most  marked  intensities  of 
my  own  sensation:  the  first  the  certitude  that  she 
had  at  no  moment  since  her  marriage  so  triumph- 
antly asserted  her  defeat  of  time,  and  the  second  the 
conviction  that  I,  losing  with  her  while,  as  it  were, 
we  closed,  a  certain  advantage  I  should  never  re- 
cover, had  at  no  moment  since  the  day  before  made 
so  poor  a  figure  on  my  own  ground.  Ah,  it  may 
have  been  only  for  six  seconds  that  she  caught  me 
gaping  at  her  renewed  beauty;  but  six  seconds,  it 
was  inevitable  to  feel,  were  quite  enough  for  every 
purpose  with  which  she  had  come  down  to  me. 
She  might  have  been  a  large,  fair,  rich,  prosperous 
person  of  twenty-five;  she  was  at  any  rate  near 
enough  to  it  to  put  me  for  ever  in  my  place.  It  was 
a  success,  on  her  part,  that,  though  I  couldn't  as  yet 
fully  measure  it,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  what- 
ever, any  more  than  of  my  somehow  paying  for  it. 
Her  being  there  at  all,  at  such  an  hour,  in  such  con- 
ditions, became,  each  moment,  on  the  whole  busi- 
ness, more  and  more  a  part  of  her  advantage;  the 
case  for  her  was  really  in  almost  any  aspect  she 
could  now  make  it  wear  to  my  imagination.  My 
wealth  of  that  faculty,  never  so  stimulated,  was  thus, 
in  a  manner,  her  strength;  by  which  I  mean  the  im- 
possibility of  my  indifference  to  the  mere  immense 
suggestiveness  of  our  circumstances.  How  can  I 

240 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

tell  now  to  what  tune  the  sense  of  all  these  played 
into  my  mind? — the  huge  oddity  of  the  nameless 
idea  on  which  we  foregathered,  the  absence  and 
hush  of  everything  except  that  idea,  so  magnified 
in  consequence  and  yet  still,  after  all,  altogether 
fantastic.  There  remained  for  her,  there  spoke  for 
her  too,  her  vividly  "  unconventional "  step,  the 
bravery  of  her  rustling,  on  an  understanding  so 
difficult  to  give  an  account  of,  through  places  and 
times  only  made  safe  by  the  sleep  of  the  unsuspect- 
ing. My  imagination,  in  short,  since  I  have  spoken 
of  it,  couldn't  do  other  than  work  for  her  from  the 
moment  she  had,  so  simply  yet  so  wonderfully,  not 
failed  me.  Therefore  it  was  all  with  me  again,  the 
vision  of  her  reasons.  They  were  in  fact  sufficiently 
in  the  sound  of  what  she  presently  said.  "  Perhaps 
you  don't  know — but  I  mentioned  in  the  proper 
quarter  that  I  should  sit  up  a  little.  They're  of  a 

kindness  here,  luckily !     So  it's  all  right."     It 

was  all  right,  obviously — she  made  it  so;  but  she 
made  it  so  as  well  that,  in  spite  of  the  splendour 
she  showed  me,  she  should  be  a  little  nervous. 
"  We  shall  only  take  moreover,"  she  added,  "  a 
minute." 

I  should  perhaps  have  wondered  more  what  she 
proposed  to  do  in  a  minute  had  I  not  felt  it  as 
already  more  or  less  done.  Yes,  she  might  have 
been  twenty-five,  and  it  was  a  short  time  for  that 
to  have  taken.  However,  what  I  clutched  at,  what 

241 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  clung  to,  was  that  it  was  a  nervous  twenty-five. 
I  might  pay  for  her  assurance,  but  wasn't  there 
something  of  mine  for  which  she  might  pay?  I  was 
nervous  also,  but,  as  I  took  in  again,  with  a  glance 
through  our  great  chain  of  chambers,  the  wonderful 
conditions  that  protected  us,  I  did  my  best  to  feel 
sure  that  it  was  only  because  I  was  so  amused. 
That — in  so  high  a  form — was  what  it  came  to  in 
the  end.  "  I  supposed,"  I  replied,  "  that  you'd 
have  arranged;  for,  in  spite  of  the  way  things  were 
going,  I  hadn't  given  you  up.  I  haven't  under- 
stood, I  confess,"  I  went  on,  "  why  you've  preferred 
a  conference  so  intensely  nocturnal — of  which  I 
quite  feel,  however,  that,  if  it  has  happened  to  suit 
you,  it  isn't  for  me  to  complain.  But  I  felt  sure  of 
you — that  was  the  great  thing — from  the  moment, 
half  an  hour  ago,  you  so  kindly  spoke  to  me.  I 
gave  you,  you  see,"  I  laughed,  "  what's  called 
'  rope.'  " 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  mean,"  she  exclaimed,  "  for 
me  to  hang  myself! — for  that,  I  assure  you,  is  not 
at  all  what  I'm  prepared  for."  Then  she  seemed 
again  to  give  me  the  magnificence  of  her  youth. 
It  wasn't,  throughout,  I  was  to  feel,  that  she  at  all 
had  abysses  of  irony,  for  she  in  fact  happily  needed 
none.  Her  triumph  was  in  itself  ironic  enough,  and 
all  her  point  in  her  sense  of  her  freshness.  "  Were 
you  really  so  impatient?  "  But  as  I  inevitably  hung 
fire  a  little  she  continued  before  I  could  answer; 

242 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

which  somewhat  helped  me  indeed  by  showing  the 
one  flaw  in  her  confidence.  More  extraordinary 
perhaps  than  anything  else,  moreover,  was  just  my 
perception  of  this;  which  gives  the  value  of  all  that 
each  of  us  so  visibly  felt  the  other  to  have  put  to- 
gether, to  have  been  making  out  and  gathering  in, 
since  we  parted,  on  the  terrace,  after  seeing  Mrs. 
Server  and  Briss  come  up  from  under  their  tree. 
We  had,  of  a  truth,  arrived  at  our  results — though 
mine  were  naturally  the  ones  for  me  to  believe  in; 
and  it  was  prodigious  that  we  openely  met  not  at 
all  where  we  had  last  left  each  other,  but  exactly 
on  what  our  subsequent  suppressed  processes  had 
achieved.  We  hadn't  named  them — hadn't  alluded 
to  them,  and  we  couldn't,  no  doubt,  have  done 
either;  but  they  were  none  the  less  intensely  there 
between  us,  with  the  whole  bright,  empty  scene 
given  up  to  them.  Only  she  had  her  shrewd  sense 
that  mine,  for  reasons,  might  have  been  still  more 
occult  than  her  own.  Hadn't  I  possibly  burrowed 
the  deeper — to  come  out  in  some  uncalculated  place 
behind  her  back?  That  was  the  flaw  in  her  confi- 
dence. She  had  in  spite  of  it  her  firm  ground,  and 
I  could  feel,  to  do  her  justice,  how  different  a  com- 
placency it  was  from  such  smug  ignorance  as  Lady 
John's.  If  I  didn't  fear  to  seem  to  drivel  about  my 
own  knowledge  I  should  say  that  she  had,  in  addi- 
tion to  all  the  rest  of  her  "  pull,"  the  benefit  of  strik- 
ing me  as  worthy  of  me.  She  was  in  the  mystic 

243 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

circle — not  one  of  us  more;  she  knew  the  size  of 
it;  and  it  was  our  now  being  in  it  alone  together, 
with  everyone  else  out  and  with  the  size  greater 
than  it  had  yet  been  at  all — it  was  this  that  gave 
the  hour,  in  fine,  so  sharp  a  stamp. 

But  she  had  meanwhile  taken  up  my  allusion  to 
her  having  preferred  so  to  wait.  "  I  wanted  to  see 
you  quietly;  which  was  what  I  tried — not  altogether 
successfully,  it  rather  struck  me  at  the  moment — to 
make  you  understand  when  I  let  you  know  about 
it.  You  stared  so  that  I  didn't  quite  know  what 
was  the  matter.  Nothing  could  be  quiet,  I  saw,  till 
the  going  to  bed  was  over,  and  I  felt  it  coming  off 
then  from  one  minute  to  the  other.  I  didn't  wish 
publicly  to  be  called  away  for  it  from  this  putting 
of  our  heads  together,  and,  though  you  may  think 
me  absurd,  I  had  a  dislike  to  having  our  question 
of  May  up  so  long  as  she  was  hanging  about.  I 
knew  of  course  that  she  would  hang  about  till  the 
very  last  moment,  and  that  was  what  I  perhaps  a 
little  clumsily — if  it  was  my  own  fault! — made  the 
effort  to  convey  to  you.  She  may  be  hanging 
about  still,"  Mrs.  Briss  continued,  with  her  larger 
look  round — her  looks  round  were  now  immense; 
"  but  at  any  rate  I  shall  have  done  what  I  could. 
I  had  a  feeling — perfectly  preposterous,  I  admit ! — 
against  her  seeing  us  together;  but  if  she  comes 
down  again,  as  I've  so  boldly  done,  and  finds  us, 
she'll  have  no  one  but  herself  to  thank.  It's  a  funny 

244 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

house,  for  that  matter,"  my  friend  rambled  on, 
"  and  I'm  not  sure  that  anyone  has  gone  to  bed. 
One  does  what  one  likes;  I'm  an  old  woman,  at 
any  rate,  and  /  do !  "  She  explained  now,  she  ex- 
plained too  much,  she  abounded,  talking  herself 
stoutly  into  any  assurance  that  failed  her.  I  had 
meanwhile  with  every  word  she  uttered  a  sharper 
sense  of  the  pressure,  behind  them  all,  of  a  new 
consciousness.  It  was  full  of  everything  she  didn't 
say,  and  what  she  said  was  no  representation  what- 
ever of  what  was  most  in  her  mind.  We  had  indeed 
taken  a  jump  since  noon — we  had  indeed  come  out 
further  on.  Just  this  fine  dishonesty  of  her  eyes, 
moreover — the  light  of  a  part  to  play,  the  excite- 
ment (heaven  knows  what  it  struck  me  as  being!) 
of  a  happy  duplicity — may  well  have  been  what  con- 
tributed most  to  her  present  grand  air. 

It  was  in  any  case  what  evoked  for  me  most  the 
contrasted  image,  so  fresh  with  me,  of  the  other, 
the  tragic  lady — the  image  that  had  so  embodied 
the  unutterable  opposite  of  everything  actually  be- 
fore me.  What  was  actually  before  me  was  the 
positive  pride  of  life  and  expansion,  the  amplitude 
of  conscious  action  and  design;  not  the  arid  channel 
forsaken  by  the  stream,  but  the  full-fed  river  sweep- 
ing to  the  sea,  the  volume  of  water,  the  stately  cur- 
rent, the  flooded  banks  into  which  the  source  had 
swelled.  There  was  nothing  Mrs.  Server  had  been 
able  to  risk,  but  there  was  a  rich  indifference  to  risk 

245 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

m  the  mere  carnage  of  Grace  Brissenden's  head. 
Her  reference,  for  that  matter,  to  our  discussed  sub- 
ject had  the  effect  of  relegating  to  the  realm  of  dim 
shades  the  lady  representing  it,  and  there  was  small 
soundness  in  her  glance  at  the  possibility  on  the 
part  of  this  person  of  an  anxious  prowl  back.  There 
was  indeed — there  could  be — small  sincerity  in  any 
immediate  demonstration  from  a  woman  so  marked- 
ly gaining  time  and  getting  her  advantages  in  hand. 
The  connections  between  the  two,  certainly,  were 
indirect  and  intricate,  but  it  was  positive  to  me  that, 
for  the  spiritual  ear,  my  companion's  words  had  the 
sound  of  a  hard  bump,  a  contact  from  the  force  of 
which  the  weaker  vessel  might  have  been  felt  to 
crack.  At  last,  merciful  powers,  it  was  in  pieces! 
The  shock  of  the  brass  had  told  upon  the  porcelain, 
and  I  fancied  myself  for  an  instant  facing  Mrs.  Briss 
over  the  damage — a  damage  from  which  I  was 
never,  as  I  knew,  to  see  the  poor  banished  ghost 
recover.  As  strange  as  anything  was  this  effect 
almost  of  surprise  for  me  in  the  freedom  of  her 
mention  of  "  May."  For  what  had  she  come  to  me, 
if  for  anything,  but  to  insist  on  her  view  of  May, 
and  what  accordingly  was  more  to  the  point  than 
to  mention  her?  Yet  it  was  almost  already  as  if  to 
mention  her  had  been  to  get  rid  of  her.  She  was 
mentioned,  however,  inevitably  and  none  the  less 
promptly,  anew — even  as  if  simply  to  receive  a  final 
shake  before  being  quite  dropped.  My  friend  kept 

246 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

it  up.  "  If  you  were  so  bent  on  not  losing  what  I 
might  have  to  give  you  that  you  fortunately  stuck 
to  the  ship,  for  poor  Briss  to  pick  you  up,  wasn't 
this  also  " — she  roundly  put  it  to  me — "  a  good  deal 
because  you've  been  nursing  all  day  the  grievance 
with  which  I  this  morning  so  comfortably  furnished 
you?  " 

I  just  waited,  but  fairly  for  admiration.  "  Oh,  I 
certainly  had  my  reasons — as  I've  no  less  certainly 
had  my  luck — for  not  indeed  deserting  our  dear 
little  battered,  but  still  just  sufficiently  buoyant  ves- 
sel, from  which  everyone  else  appears,  I  recognise, 
to  s'etre  sauve.  She'll  float  a  few  minutes  more! 
But  (before  she  sinks !)  do  you  mean  by  my  griev- 
ance  " 

"  Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean  by  your  griev- 
ance !  "  She  had  no  intention,  Mrs.  Briss,  of  sink- 
ing. "  I  was  to  give  you  time  to  make  up  your 
mind  that  Mrs.  Server  was  our  lady.  You  so  re- 
sented, for  some  reason,  my  suggesting  it  that  I 
scarcely  believed  you'd  consider  it  at  all;  only  I 
hadn't  forgotten,  when  I  spoke  to  you  a  while  since, 
that  you  had  nevertheless  handsomely  promised  me 
that  you  would  do  your  best." 

"  Yes,  and,  still  more  handsomely,  that  if  I 
changed  my  mind,  I  would  eat,  in  your  presence, 
for  my  error,  the  largest  possible  slice  of  humble  pie. 
If  you  didn't  see  this  morning,"  I  continued,  "  quite 
why  I  should  have  cared  so  much,  so  I  don't  quite 

247 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

see  why,  in  your  different  way,  you  should;  at  the 
same  time  that  I  do  full  justice  to  the  good  faith 
with  which  you've  given  me  my  chance.  Please 
believe  that  if  I  could  candidly  embrace  that  chance 
I  should  feel  all  the  joy  in  the  world  in  repaying 
you.  It's  only,  alas !  because  I  cling  to  my  candour 
that  I  venture  to  disappoint  you.  If  I  cared  this 
morning  it  was  really  simple  enough.  You  didn't 
convince  me,  but  I  should  have  cared  just  as  much 
if  you  had.  I  only  didn't  see  what  you  saw.  I 
needed  more  than  you  could  then  give  me.  I  knew, 
you  see,  what  I  needed — I  mean  before  I  struck! 
It  was  the  element  of  collateral  support  that  we 
both  lacked.  I  couldn't  do  without  it  as  you  could. 
This  was  what  I,  clumsily  enough,  tried  to  show 
you  I  felt.  You,  on  your  side,"  I  pursued,  "  grasped 
admirably  the  evident  truth  that  that  element  could 
be  present  only  in  such  doses  as  practically  to  escape 
detection."  I  kept  it  up  as  she  had  done,  and  I 
remember  striking  myself  as  scarce  less  excitedly 
voluble.  I  was  conscious  of  being  at  a  point  at 
which  I  should  have  to  go  straight,  to  go  fast,  to 
go  it,  as  the  phrase  is,  blind,  in  order  to  go  at  all. 
I  was  also  conscious — and  it  came  from  the  look 
with  which  she  listened  to  me  and  that  told  me  more 
than  she  wished — I  felt  sharply,  though  but  instinc- 
tively, in  fine,  that  I  should  still,  whatever  I  practi- 
cally had  lost,  make  my  personal  experience  most 
rich  and  most  complete  by  putting  it  definitely  to 

248 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

her  that,  sorry  as  I  might  be  not  to  oblige  her,  I 
had,  even  at  this  hour,  no  submission  to  make.  I 
doubted  in  fact  whether  my  making  one  would  have 
obliged  her;  but  I  felt  that,  for  all  so  much  had  come 
and  gone,  I  was  not  there  to  take,  for  her  possible 
profit,  any  new  tone  with  her.  She  would  suffi- 
ciently profit,  at  the  worst,  by  the  old.  My  old 
motive — old  with  the  prodigious  antiquity  the  few 
hours  had  given  it — had  quite  left  me;  I  seemed  to 
myself  to  know  little  now  of  my  desire  to  "  protect  " 
Mrs.  Server.  She  was  certainly,  with  Mrs.  Briss 
at  least,  past  all  protection;  and  the  conviction  had 
grown  with  me,  in  these  few  minutes,  that  there  was 
now  no  rag  of  the  queer  truth  that  Mrs.  Briss  hadn't 
secretly  —  by  which  I  meant  morally  —  handled. 
But  I  none  the  less,  on  a  perfectly  simple  reasoning, 
stood  to  my  guns,  and  with  no  sense  whatever,  I 
must  add,  of  now  breaking  my  vow  of  the  morning. 
I  had  made  another  vow  since  then — made  it  to  the 
poor  lady  herself  as  we  sat  together  in  the  wood; 
passed  my  word  to  her  that  there  was  no  approxi- 
mation I  pretended  even  to  myself  to  have  made. 
How  then  was  I  to  pretend  to  Mrs.  Briss,  and  what 
facts  had  I  collected  on  which  I  could  respectably 
ground  an  acknowledgment  to  her  that  I  had  come 
round  to  her  belief?  If  I  had  "  caught "  our  in- 
criminated pair  together — really  together — even 
for  three  minutes,  I  would,  I  sincerely  considered, 
have  come  round.  But  I  was  to  have  performed 

249 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

this  revolution  on  nothing  less,  as  I  now  went  on  to 
explain  to  her.  "  Of  course  if  you've  got  new  evi- 
dence I  shall  be  delighted  to  hear  it;  and  of  course 
I  can't  help  wondering  whether  the  possession  of  it 
and  the  desire  to  overwhelm  me  with  it  aren't,  to- 
gether, the  one  thing  you've  been  nursing  till  now.'* 

Oh,  how  intensely  she  didn't  like  such  a  tone! 
If  she  hadn't  looked  so  handsome  I  would  say  she 
made  a  wry  face  over  it,  though  I  didn't  even  yet 
see  where  her  dislike  would  make  her  come  out. 
Before  she  came  out,  in  fact,  she  waited  as  if  it  were 
a  question  of  dashing  her  head  at  a  wall.  Then,  at 
last,  she  charged.  "  It's  nonsense.  I've  nothing 
to  tell  you.  I  feel  there's  nothing  in  it  and  I've 
given  it  up." 

I  almost  gaped — by  which  I  mean  that  I  looked 
as  if  I  did — for  surprise.  "  You  agree  that  it's  not 

she ?  "     Then,  as  she  again  waited,  "  It's  you 

who've  come  round?  "  I  insisted. 

"  To  your  doubt  of  its  being  May?  Yes — I've 
come  round." 

"  Ah,  pardon  me,"  I  returned;  "  what  I  expressed 
this  morning  was,  if  I  remember  rightly,  not  at  all 
a  '  doubt/  but  a  positive,  intimate  conviction  that 
was  inconsistent  with  any  doubt.  I  was  emphatic 
— purely  and  simply — that  I  didn't  see  it." 

She  looked,  however,  as  if  she  caught  me  in  a 
weakness  here.  "  Then  why  did  you  say  to  me  that 

if  you  should  reconsider " 

250 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

"  You  should  handsomely  have  it  from  me,  and 
my  grounds?  Why,  as  I've  just  reminded  you,  as 
a  form  of  courtesy  to  you — magnanimously  to  help 
you,  as  it  were,  to  feel  as  comfortable  as  I  conceived 
you  naturally  would  desire  to  feel  in  your  own  con- 
viction. Only  for  that.  And  now,"  I  smiled,  "  I'm 
to  understand  from  you  that,  in  spite  of  that  im- 
mense allowance,  you  haven't,  all  this  while,  felt 
comfortable?  " 

She  gave,  on  this,  in  a  wonderful,  beautiful  way, 
a  slow,  simplifying  headshake.  "  Mrs.  Server  isn't 
in  it!" 

The  only  way  then  to  take  it  from  her  was  that 
her  concession  was  a  prelude  to  something  still  bet- 
ter; and  when  I  had  given  her  time  to  see  this  dawn 
upon  me  I  had  my  eagerness  and  I  jumped  into  the 
breathless.  "  You've  made  out  then  who  is?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  make  out,  you  know,"  she  laughed, 
"  so  much  as  you !  She  isn't,"  she  simply  repeated. 

I  looked  at  it,  on  my  inspiration,  quite  ruefully — 
almost  as  if  I  now  wished,  after  all,  she  were.  "  Ah, 
but,  do  you  know?  it  really  strikes  me  you  make 
out  marvels.  You  made  out  this  morning  quite 
what  I  couldn't.  I  hadn't  put  together  anything 
so  extraordinary  as  that — in  the  total  absence  of 
everything — it  should  have  been  our  friend." 

Mrs.  Briss  appeared,  on  her  side,  to  take  in  the 
intention  of  this.  "  What  do  you  mean  by  the 
total  absence?  When  I  made  my  mistake,"  she  de- 

251 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

clared  as  if  in  the  interest  of  her  dignity,  "  I  didn't 
think  everything  absent." 

"I  see,"  I  admitted.  "I  see,"  I  thoughtfully 
repeated.  "  And  do  you,  then,  think  everything 
now?  " 

"  I  had  my  honest  impression  of  the  moment," 
she  pursued  as  if  she  had  not  heard  me.  "  There 
were  appearances  that,  as  it  at  the  time  struck  me, 
fitted." 

"  Precisely  " — and  I  recalled  for  her  the  one  she 
had  made  most  of.  "  There  was  in  especial  the  ap- 
pearance that  she  was  at  a  particular  moment  using 
Brissenden  to  show  whom  she  was  not  using.  You 
felt  then"  I  ventured  to  observe,  "  the  force  of 
that." 

I  ventured  less  than,  already,  I  should  have  liked 
to  venture;  yet  I  none  the  less  seemed  to  see  her 
try  on  me  the  effect  of  the  intimation  that  I  was 
going  far.  "  Is  it  your  wish,"  she  inquired  with 
much  nobleness,  "  to  confront  me,  to  my  confusion, 
with  my  inconsistency? "  Her  nobleness  offered 
itself  somehow  as  such  a  rebuke  to  my  mere  logic 
that,  in  my  momentary  irritation,  I  might  have  been 
on  the  point  of  assenting  to  her  question.  This 
imminence  of  my  assent,  justified  by  my  horror  of 
her  huge  egotism,  but  justified  by  nothing  else  and 
precipitating  everything,  seemed  as  marked  for 
these  few  seconds  as  if  we  each  had  our  eyes  on  it. 
But  I  sat  so  tight  that  the  danger  passed,  leaving 

252 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

my  silence  to  do  what  it  could  for  my  manners. 
She  proceeded  meanwhile  to  add  a  very  handsome 
account  of  her  own.  "  You  should  do  me  the  jus- 
tice to  recognise  how  little  I  need  have  spoken  an- 
other word  to  you,  and  how  little,  also,  this  amiable 
explanation  to  you  is  in  the  interest  of  one's  natural 
pride.  It  seems  to  me  I've  come  to  you  here  alto- 
gether in  the  interest  of  yours.  You  talk  about 
humble  pie,  but  I  think  that,  upon  my  word — with 
all  I've  said  to  you — it's  I  who  have  had  to  eat  it. 
The  magnanimity  you  speak  of,"  she  continued 
with  all  her  grandeur — "  I  really  don't  see,  either, 
whose  it  is  but  mine.  I  don't  see  what  account  of 
anything  I'm  in  any  way  obliged  to  give." 

I  granted  it  quickly  and  without  reserve. 
"  You're  not  obliged  to  give  any — you're  quite 
right:  you  do  it  only  because  you're  such  a  large, 
splendid  creature.  I  quite  feel  that,  beside  you  " — 
I  did,  at  least,  treat  myself  to  the  amusement  of 
saying — "  I  move  in  a  tiny  circle.  Still,  I  won't 
have  it " — I  could  also,  again,  keep  it  up — "  that 
our  occasion  has  nothing  for  you  but  the  taste  of 
abasement.  You  gulp  your  mouthful  down,  but 
hasn't  it  been  served  on  gold  plate?  You've  had  a 
magnificent  day — a  brimming  cup  of  triumph,  and 
you're  more  beautiful  and  fresh,  after  it  all,  and  at 
an  hour  when  fatigue  would  be  almost  positively 
graceful,  than  you  were  even  this  morning,  when 
you  met  me  as  a  daughter  of  the  dawn.  That's  the 

253 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

sort  of  sense,"  I  laughed,  "that  must  sustain  a 
woman !  "  And  I  wound  up  on  a  complete  recov- 
ery of  my  good-humour.  "  No,  no.  I  thank  you 
— thank  you  immensely.  But  I  don't  pity  you. 
You  can  afford  to  lose."  I  wanted  her  perplexity — 
the  proper  sharp  dose  of  it — to  result  both  from  her 
knowing  and  her  not  knowing  sufficiently  what  I 
meant;  and  when  I  in  fact  saw  how  perplexed  she 
could  be  and  how  little,  again,  she  could  enjoy  it, 
I  felt  anew  my  private  wonder  at  her  having  cared 
and  dared  to  meet  me.  Where  was  enjoyment,  for 
her,  where  the  insolence  of  success,  if  the  breath  of 
irony  could  chill  them?  Why,  since  she  was  bold, 
should  she  be  susceptible,  and  how,  since  she  was 
susceptible,  could  she  be  bold?  I  scarce  know 
what,  at  this  moment,  determined  the  divination; 
but  everything,  the  distinct  and  the  dim  alike,  had 
cleared  up  the  next  instant  at  the  touch  of  the  real 
truth.  The  certitude  of  the  source  of  my  present 
opportunity  had  rolled  over  me  before  we  ex- 
changed another  word.  The  source  was  simply 
Gilbert  Long,  and  she  was  there  because  he  had 
directed  it.  This  connection  hooked  itself,  like  a 
sudden  picture  and  with  a  click  that  fairly  resound- 
ed through  our  empty  rooms,  into  the  array  of  the 
other  connections,  to  the  immense  enrichment,  as  it 
was  easy  to  feel,  of  the  occasion,  and  to  the  immense 
confirmation  of  the  very  idea  that,  in  the  course  of 
the  evening,  I  had  come  near  dismissing  from  my 

254 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

mind  as  too  fantastic  even  for  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany it  should  enjoy  there.  What  I  now  was  sure 
of  flashed  back,  at  any  rate,  every  syllable  of  sense 
I  could  have  desired  into  the  suggestion  I  had,  after 
the  music,  caught  from  the  juxtaposition  of  these 
two.  Thus  solidified,  this  conviction,  it  spread  and 
spread  to  a  distance  greater  than  I  could  just  then 
traverse  under  Mrs.  Briss's  eyes,  but  which,  exactly 
for  that  reason  perhaps,  quickened  my  pride  in  the 
kingdom  of  thought  I  had  won.  I  was  really  not 
to  have  felt  more,  in  the  whole  business,  than  I  felt 
at  this  moment  that  by  my  own  right  hand  I  had 
gained  the  kingdom.  Long  and  she  were  together, 
and  I  was  alone  thus  in  face  of  them,  but  there  was 
none  the  less  not  a  single  flower  of  the  garden  that 
my  woven  wreath  should  lack. 

I  must  have  looked  queer  to  my  friend  as  I 
grinned  to  myself  over  this  vow;  but  my  relish  of 
the  way  I  was  keeping  things  together  made  me 
perhaps  for  the  instant  unduly  rash.  I  cautioned 
myself,  however,  fortunately,  before  it  could  leave 
her — scared  a  little,  all  the  same,  even  with  Long 
behind  her — an  advantage  to  take,  and,  in  infinitely 
less  time  than  I  have  needed  to  tell  it,  I  had  achieved 
my  flight  into  luminous  ether  and,  alighting  grace- 
fully on  my  feet,  reported  myself  at  my  post.  I  had 
in  other  words  taken  in  both  the  full  prodigy  of  the 
entente  between  Mrs.  Server's  lover  and  poor  Briss's 
wife,  and  the  finer  strength  it  gave  the  last-named 

255 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

as  the  representative  of  their  interest.  I  may  add 
too  that  I  had  even  taken  time  fairly  not  to  decide 
which  of  these  two  branches  of  my  vision — that  of 
the  terms  of  their  intercourse,  or  that  of  their  need 
of  it — was  likely  to  prove,  in  delectable  retrospect, 
the  more  exquisite.  All  this,  I  admit,  was  a  good 
deal  to  have  come  and  gone  while  my  privilege 
trembled,  in  its  very  essence,  in  the  scale.  Mrs. 
Briss  had  but  a  back  to  turn,  and  everything  was 
over.  She  had,  in  strictness,  already  uttered  what 
saved  her  honour,  and  her  revenge  on  impertinence 
might  easily  be  her  withdrawing  with  one  of  her 
sweeps.  I  couldn't  certainly  in  that  case  hurry 
after  her  without  spilling  my  cards.  As  my  accu- 
mulations of  lucidity,  however,  were  now  such  as  to 
defy  all  leakage,  I  promptly  recognised  the  facilities 
involved  in  a  superficial  sacrifice;  and  with  one  more 
glance  at  the  beautiful  fact  that  she  knew  the 
strength  of  Long's  hand,  I  again  went  steadily  and 
straight.  She  was  acting  not  only  for  herself,  and 
since  she  had  another  also  to  serve  and,  as  I  was 
sure,  report  to,  I  should  sufficiently  hold  her.  I 
knew  moreover  that  I  held  her  as  soon  as  I  had  be- 
gun afresh.  "  I  don't  mean  that  anything  alters  the 
fact  that  you  lose  gracefully.  It  is  awfully  charm- 
ing, your  thus  giving  yourself  up,  and  yet,  justified 
as  I  am  by  it,  I  can't  help  regretting  a  little  the 
excitement  I  found  it  this  morning  to  pull  a  differ- 
ent way  from  you.  Shall  I  tell  you,"  it  suddenly 

256 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

came  to  me  to  put  to  her,  "  what,  for  some  reason, 
a  man  feels  aware  of?  "  And  then  as,  guarded,  still 
uneasy,  she  would  commit  herself  to  no  permission : 
"  That  pulling  against  you  also  had  its  thrill.  You 
defended  your  cause.  Oh,"  I  quickly  added,  "  I 
know — who  should  know  better? — that  it  was  bad. 
Only — what  shall  I  say? — you  weren't  bad,  and  one 
had  to  fight.  And  then  there  was  what  one  was 
fighting  for !  Well,  you're  not  bad  now,  either;  so 
that  you  may  ask  me,  of  course,  what  more  I  want." 
I  tried  to  think  a  moment.  "  It  isn't  that,  thrown 
back  on  the  comparative  dullness  of  security,  I  find 
— as  people  have  been  known  to — my  own  cause 
less  good :  no,  it  isn't  that."  After  which  I  had  my 
illumination.  "  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is :  it's  the  come- 
down of  ceasing  to  work  with  you !  " 

She  looked  as  if  she  were  quite  excusable  for  not 
following  me.  "  To  '  work  '?  " 

I  immediately  explained.  "  Even  fighting  was 
working,  for  we  struck,  you'll  remember,  sparks, 
and  sparks  were  what  we  wanted.  There  we  are 
then,"  I  cheerfully  went  on.  "  Sparks  are  what  we 
still  want,  and  you've  not  come  to  me,  I  trust,  with 
a  mere  spent  match.  I  depend  upon  it  that  you've 
another  to  strike."  I  showed  her  without  fear  all 
I  took  for  granted.  "  Who,  then,  has?  " 

She  was  superb  in  her  coldness,  but  her  stare  was 
partly  blank.  "  Who  then  has  what?  " 

"  Why,  done  it."  And  as  even  at  this  she  didn't 
257 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

light  I  gave  her  something  of  a  jog.  "  You  haven't, 
with  the  force  of  your  revulsion,  I  hope,  literally  lost 
our  thread."  But  as,  in  spite  of  my  thus  waiting  for 
her  to  pick  it  up  she  did  nothing,  I  offered  myself 
as  fairly  stooping  to  the  carpet  for  it  and  putting  it 
back  in  her  hand.  "  Done  what  we  spent  the  morn- 
ing wondering  at.  Who  then,  if  it  isn't,  certainly, 
Mrs.  Server,  is  the  woman  who  has  made  Gilbert 
Long — well,  what  you  know?  " 

I  had  needed  the  moment  to  take  in  the  special 
shade  of  innocence  she  was  by  this  time  prepared  to 
show  me.  It  was  an  innocence,  in  particular,  in 
respect  to  the  relation  of  anyone,  in  all  the  vast  im- 
propriety of  things,  to  anyone.  "  I'm  afraid  I  know 
nothing." 

I  really  wondered  an  instant  how  she  could  ex- 
pect help  from  such  extravagance.  "  But  I  thought 
you  just  recognised  that  you  do  enjoy  the  sense  of 
your  pardonable  mistake.  You  knew  something 
when  you  knew  enough  to  see  you  had  made  it." 

She  faced  me  as  with  the  frank  perception  that, 
of  whatever  else  one  might  be  aware,  I  abounded  in 
traps,  and  that  this  would  probably  be  one  of  my 
worst.  "  Oh,  I  think  one  generally  knows  when 
one  has  made  a  mistake." 

"  That's  all  then  I  invite  you — a  mistake,  as  you 
properly  call  it — to  allow  me  to  impute  to  you.  I'm 
not  accusing  you  of  having  made  fifty.  You  made 
none  whatever,  I  hold,  when  you  agreed  with  me 

258 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

with  such  eagerness  about  the  striking  change  in 
him." 

She  affected  me  as  asking  herself  a  little,  on  this, 
whether  vagueness,  the  failure  of  memory,  the  re- 
jection of  nonsense,  mightn't  still  serve  her.  But 
she  saw  the  next  moment  a  better  way.  It  all  came 
back  to  her,  but  from  so  very  far  off.  "  The  change, 
do  you  mean,  in  poor  Mr.  Long?  " 

"  Of  what  other  change — except,  as  you  may  say, 
your  own — have  you  met  me  here  to  speak  of? 
Your  own,  I  needn't  remind  you,  is  part  and  parcel 
of  Long's." 

"  Oh,  my  own,"  she  presently  returned,  "  is  a 
much  simpler  matter  even  than  that.  My  own  is 
the  recognition  that  I  just  expressed  to  you  and 
that  I  can't  consent,  if  you  please,  to  your  twisting 
into  the  recognition  of  anything  else.  It's  the 
recognition  that  I  know  nothing  of  any  other 
change.  I  stick,  if  you'll  allow  me,  to  my  igno- 
rance." 

"  I'll  allow  you  with  joy,"  I  laughed,  "  if  you'll  let 
me  stick  to  it  with  you.  Your  own  change  is  quite 
sufficient — it  gives  us  all  we  need.  It  will  give  us, 
if  we  retrace  the  steps  of  it,  everything,  every- 
thing!" 

Mrs.  Briss  considered.  "  I  don't  quite  see,  do  I? 
why,  at  this  hour  of  the  night,  we  should  begin  to 
retrace  steps." 

"  Simply  because  it's  the  hour  of  the  night  you've 
259 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

happened,  in  your  generosity  and  your  discretion, 
to  choose.  I'm  struck,  I  confess,"  I  declared  with 
a  still  sharper  conviction,  "  with  the  wonderful 
charm  of  it  for  our  purpose." 

"  And,  pray,  what  do  you  call  with  such  solem- 
nity," she  inquired,  "our  purpose?" 

I  had  fairly  recovered  at  last — so  far  from  being 
solemn — an  appropriate  gaiety.  "  I  can  only,  with 
positiveness,  answer  for  mine !  That  has  remained 
all  day  the  same — to  get  at  the  truth :  not,  that  is,  to 
relax  my  grasp  of  that  tip  of  the  tail  of  it  which  you 
so  helped  me  this  morning  to  fasten  to.  If  you've 
ceased  to  care  to  help  me,"  I  pursued,  "  that's  a 
difference  indeed.  But  why,"  I  candidly,  pleading- 
ly asked,  "  should  you  cease  to  care?  "  It  was  more 
and  more  of  a  comfort  to  feel  her  imprisoned  in  her 
inability  really  to  explain  her  being  there.  To 
show  herself  as  she  was  explained  it  only  so  far  as 
she  could  express  that;  which  was  just  the  freedom 
she  could  least  take.  "  What  on  earth  is  between 
us,  anyhow,"  I  insisted,  "  but  our  confounded  in- 
terest? That's  only  quickened,  for  me,  don't  you 
see?  by  the  charming  way  you've  come  round;  and  I 
don't  see  how  it  can  logically  be  anything  less  than 
quickened  for  yourself.  We're  like  the  messengers 
and  heralds  in  the  tale  of  Cinderella,  and  I  protest, 
I  assure  you,  against  any  sacrifice  of  our  denou- 
ment.  We've  still  the  glass  shoe  to  fit." 

I  took  pleasure  at  the  moment  in  my  metaphor; 
260 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

but  this  was  not  the  case,  I  soon  enough  perceived, 
with  my  companion.  "  How  can  I  tell,  please/'  she 
demanded,  "  what  you  consider  you're  talking 
about?" 

I  smiled;  it  was  so  quite  the  question  Ford  Obert, 
in  the  smoking-room,  had  begun  by  putting  me. 
I  hadn't  to  take  time  to  remind  myself  how  I  had 
dealt  with  him.  "  And  you  knew,"  I  sighed,  "  so 
beautifully,  you  glowed  over  it  so,  this  morning !  " 
She  continued  to  give  me,  in  every  way,  her  discon- 
nection from  this  morning,  so  that  I  had  only  to 
proceed :  "  You've  not  availed  yourself  of  this  oc- 
casion to  pretend  to  me  that  poor  Mr.  Long,  as  you 
call  him,  is,  after  all,  the  same  limited  person " 

"  That  he  always  was,  and  that  you,  yesterday, 
so  suddenly  discovered  him  to  have  ceased  to  be?  " 
— for  with  this  she  had  waked  up.  But  she  was 
still  thinking  how  she  could  turn  it.  "  You  see  too 
much." 

"  Oh,  I  know  I  do — ever  so  much  too  much. 
And  much  as  I  see,  I  express  only  half  of  it — so  you 
may  judge !  "  I  laughed.  "  But  what  will  you  have? 
I  see  what  I  see,  and  this  morning,  for  a  good  bit, 
you  did  me  the  honour  to  do  the  same.  I  returned, 
also,  the  compliment,  didn't  I?  by  seeing  something 
of  what  you  saw.  We  put  it,  the  whole  thing,  to- 
gether, and  we  shook  the  bottle  hard.  I'm  to  take 
from  you,  after  this,"  I  wound  up,  "  that  what  it 
contains  is  a  perfectly  colourless  fluid?  " 

261 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

I  paused  for  a  reply,  but  it  was  not  to  come  so 
happily  as  from  Obert.  "  You  talk  too  much ! " 
said  Mrs.  Briss. 

I  met  it  with  amazement.  "  Why,  whom  have 
I  told?  " 

I  looked  at  her  so  hard  with  it  that  her  colour 
began  to  rise,  which  made  me  promptly  feel  that 
she  wouldn't  press  that  point.  "  I  mean  you're  car- 
ried away — you're  abused  by  a  fine  fancy:  so  that, 
with  your  art  of  putting  things,  one  doesn't  know 
where  one  is — nor,  if  you'll  allow  me  to  say  so,  do 
I  quite  think  you  always  do.  Of  course  I  don't 
deny  you're  awfully  clever.  But  you  build  up,"  she 
brought  out  with  a  regret  so  indulgent  and  a  reluc- 
tance so  marked  that  she  for  some  seconds  fairly 
held  the  blow — "  you  build  up  houses  of  cards." 

I  had  been  impatient  to  learn  what,  and,  frankly, 
I  was  disappointed.  This  broke  from  me,  after  an 
instant,  doubtless,  with  a  bitterness  not  to  be  mis- 
taken. "  Long  isn't  what  he  seems?  " 

"  Seems  to  whom?  "  she  asked  sturdily. 

"  Well,  call  it — for  simplicity — to  me.  For  you 
see  " — and  I  spoke  as  to  show  what  it  was  to  see — 
"  it  all  stands  or  falls  by  that." 

The  explanation  presently  appeared  a  little  to 
have  softened  her.  If  it  all  stood  or  fell  only  by 
that,  it  stood  or  fell  by  something  that,  for  her  com- 
fort, might  be  not  so  unsuccessfully  disposed  of. 
She  exhaled,  with  the  swell  of  her  fine  person,  a 

262 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

comparative  blandness — seemed  to  play  with  the 
idea  of  a  smile.  She  had,  in  short,  her  own  explana- 
tion. "  The  trouble  with  you  is  that  you  over-esti- 
mate the  penetration  of  others.  How  can  it  ap- 
proach your  own?  " 

"  Well,  yours  had  for  a  while,  I  should  say,  dis- 
tinct moments  of  keeping  up  with  it.  Nothing  is 
more  possible,"  I  went  on,  "  than  that  I  do  talk  too 
much;  but  I've  done  so — about  the  question  in  dis- 
pute between  us — only  to  you.  I  haven't,  as  I  con- 
ceived we  were  absolutely  not  to  do,  mentioned  it 
to  anyone  else,  nor  given  anyone  a  glimpse  of  our 
difference.  If  you've  not  understood  yourself  as 
pledged  to  the  same  reserve,  and  have  consequent- 
ly," I  went  on,  "  appealed  to  the  light  of  other  wis- 
dom, it  shows  at  least  that,  in  spite  of  my  intellectual 
pace,  you  must  more  or  less  have  followed  me. 
What  am  I  not,  in  fine,  to  think  of  your  intelligence," 
I  asked,  "  if,  deciding  for  a  resort  to  headquarters, 
you've  put  the  question  to  Long  himself?  " 

"  The  question?  "  She  was  straight  out  to  sea 
again. 

"  Of  the  identity  of  the  lady." 

She  slowly,  at  this,  headed  about.  "  To  Long 
himself?  " 


263 


XIII 

HAD  felt  I  could  risk  such  directness  only  by 
-*-  making  it  extravagant — by  suggesting  it  as 
barely  imaginable  that  she  could  so  have  played  our 
game;  and  during  the  instant  for  which  I  had  now 
pulled  her  up  I  could  judge  I  had  been  right.  It 
was  an  instant  that  settled  everything,  for  I  saw 
her,  with  intensity,  with  gallantry  too,  surprised  but 
not  really  embarrassed,  recognise  that  of  course  she 
must  simply  lie.  I  had  been  justified  by  making  it 
so  possible  for  her  to  lie.  "  It  would  have  been  a 
short  cut,"  I  said,  "  and  even  more  strikingly  per- 
haps— to  do  it  justice — a  bold  deed.  But  it  would 
have  been,  in  strictness,  a  departure — wouldn't  it? 
— from  our  so  distinguished  little  compact.  Yet 
while  I  look  at  you,"  I  went  on,  "  I  wonder.  Bold 
deeds  are,  after  all,  quite  in  your  line;  and  I'm  not 
sure  I  don't  rather  want  not  to  have  missed  so  much 
possible  comedy.  '  I  have  it  for  you  from  Mr.  Long 
himself  that,  every  appearance  to  the  contrary  not- 
withstanding, his  stupidity  is  unimpaired  ' — isn't 
that,  for  the  beauty  of  it,  after  all,  what  you've 
veraciously  to  give  me?  "  We  stood  face  to  face  a 
moment,  and  I  laughed  out.  "The  beauty  of  it 
would  be  great !  " 

264 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  had  given  her  time;  I  had  seen  her  safely  to 
shore.  It  was  quite  what  I  had  meant  to  do,  but 
she  now  took  still  better  advantage  than  I  had  ex- 
pected of  her  opportunity.  She  not  only  scrambled 
up  the  bank,  she  recovered  breath  and  turned  round. 
"  Do  you  imagine  he  would  have  told  me?  " 

It  was  magnificent,  but  I  felt  she  was  still  to  bet- 
ter it  should  I  give  her  a  new  chance.  "  Who  the 
lady  really  is?  Well,  hardly;  and  that's  why,  as  you 
so  acutely  see,  the  question  of  your  having  risked 
such  a  step  has  occurred  to  me  only  as  a  jest.  Fancy 
indeed  " — I  piled  it  up — "  your  saying  to  him : 
'  We're  all  noticing  that  you're  so  much  less  of  an 
idiot  than  you  used  to  be,  and  we've  different  views 
of  the  miracle  ' !  " 

I  had  been  going  on,  but  I  was  checked  without  a 
word  from  her.  Her  look  alone  did  it,  for,  though 
it  was  a  look  that  partly  spoiled  her  lie,  it — by  that 
very  fact — sufficed  to  my  confidence.  "  I've  not 
spoken  to  a  creature." 

It  was  beautifully  said,  but  I  felt  again  the  abysses 
that  the  mere  saying  of  it  covered,  and  the  sense  of 
these  wonderful  things  was  not  a  little,  no  doubt,  in 
my  immediate  cheer.  "  Ah,  then,  we're  all  right !  " 
I  could  have  rubbed  my  hands  over  it.  "  I  mean, 
however,"  I  quickly  added,  "  only  as  far  as  that. 
I  don't  at  all  feel  comfortable  about  your  new 
theory  itself,  which  puts  me  so  wretchedly  in  the 
wrong." 

265 


THE    SACRED    FOUNT 

"  Rather ! "  said  Mrs.  Briss  almost  gaily. 
"  Wretchedly  indeed  in  the  wrong !  " 

"  Yet  only — equally  of  course,'*  I  returned  after 
a  brief  brooding,  "  if  I  come  within  a  conceivability 
of  accepting  it.  Are  you  conscious  that,  in  default 
of  Long's  own  word — equivocal  as  that  word  would 
be — you  press  it  upon  me  without  the  least  other 
guarantee?  " 

"  And  pray,"  she  asked,  "  what  guarantee  had 
you?  " 

"  For  the  theory  with  which  we  started?  Why, 
our  recognised  fact.  The  change  in  the  man.  You 
may  say,"  I  pursued,  "  that  I  was  the  first  to  speak 
for  him;  but  being  the  first  didn't,  in  your  view,  con- 
stitute a  weakness  when  it  came  to  your  speaking 
yourself  for  Mrs.  Server.  By  which  I  mean,"  I 
added,  "  speaking  against  her." 

She  remembered,  but  not  for  my  benefit.  "  Well, 
you  then  asked  me  my  warrant.  And  as  regards 
Mr.  Long  and  your  speaking  against  him " 

"  Do  you  describe  what  I  say  as  '  against '  him?  " 
I  immediately  broke  in. 

It  took  her  but  an  instant.  "  Surely — to  have 
made  him  out  horrid." 

I  could  only  want  to  fix  it.     "  '  Horrid  ' ?  " 

"  Why,  having  such  secrets."  She  was  roundly 
ready  now.  "  Sacrificing  poor  May." 

"  But  you,  dear  lady,  sacrificed  poor  May !  It 
didn't  strike  you  as  horrid  then." 

266 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

"  Well,  that  was  only,"  she  maintained,  "  because 
you  talked  me  over." 

I  let  her  see  the  full  process  of  my  taking — or  not 
taking — this  in.  "  And  who  is  it  then  that — if,  as 
you  say,  you've  spoken  to  no  one — has,  as  I  may 
call  it,  talked  you  under?  " 

She  completed,  on  the  spot,  her  statement  of  a 
moment  before.  "  Not  a  creature  has  spoken  to 
me." 

I  felt  somehow  the  wish  to  make  her  say  it  in  as 
many  ways  as  possible — I  seemed  so  to  enjoy  her 
saying  it.  This  helped  me  to  make  my  tone  ap- 
prove and  encourage.  '  You've  communicated  so 
little  with  anyone !  "  I  didn't  even  make  it  a  ques- 
tion. 

It  was  scarce  yet,  however,  quite  good  enough. 
"  So  little?  I've  not  communicated  the  least  mite." 

"  Precisely.  But  don't  think  me  impertinent  for 
having  for  a  moment  wondered.  What  I  should 
say  to  you  if  you  had,  you  know,  would  be  that  you 
just  accused  me." 

"Accused  you?" 

"  Of  talking  too  much." 

It  came  back  to  her  dim.  "  Are  we  accusing 
each  other?  " 

Her  tone  seemed  suddenly  to  put  us  nearer  to- 
gether than  we  had  ever  been  at  all.  "  Dear  no," 
I  laughed — "  not  each  other;  only  with  each  other's 
help,  a  few  of  our  good  friends." 

267 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

"A  few?"  She  handsomely  demurred.  "But 
one  or  two  at  the  best." 

"  Or  at  the  worst !  "  —  I  continued  to  laugh. 
"  And  not  even  those,  it  after  all  appears,  very 
much!" 

She  didn't  like  my  laughter,  but  she  was  now 
grandly  indulgent.  "  Well,  I  accuse  no  one." 

I  was  silent  a  little;  then  I  concurred.  "  It's 
doubtless  your  best  line;  and  I  really  quite  feel,  at 
all  events,  that  when  you  mentioned  a  while  since 
that  I  talk  too  much  you  only  meant  too  much  to 
you" 

"  Yes — I  wasn't  imputing  to  you  the  same  direct 
appeal.  I  didn't  suppose,"  she  explained,  "  that — 
to  match  your  own  supposition  of  me — you  had  re- 
sorted to  May  herself." 

"  You  didn't  suppose  I  had  asked  her?  "  The 
point  was  positively  that  she  didn't;  yet  it  made  us 
look  at  each  other  almost  as  hard  as  if  she  did. 
"  No,  of  course  you  couldn't  have  supposed  any- 
thing so  cruel — all  the  more  that,  as  you  knew,  I 
had  not  admitted  the  possibility." 

She  accepted  my  assent;  but,  oddly  enough,  with 
a  sudden  qualification  that  showed  her  as  still  sharp- 
ly disposed  to  make  use  of  any  loose  scrap  of  her 
embarrassed  acuteness.  "  Of  course,  at  the  same 
time,  you  yourself  saw  that  your  not  admitting  the 
possibility  would  have  taken  the  edge  from  your 
cruelty.  It's  not  the  innocent,"  she  suggestively 
remarked,  "  that  we  fear  to  frighten." 

268 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  Oh,"  I  returned,  "  I  fear,  mostly,  I  think,  to 
frighten  any  one.  I'm  not  particularly  brave.  I 
haven't,  at  all  events,  in  spite  of  my  certitude,  in- 
terrogated Mrs.  Server,  and  I  give  you  my  word 
of  honour  that  I've  not  had  any  denial  from  her  to 
prop  up  my  doubt.  It  still  stands  on  its  own  feet, 
and  it  was  its  own  battle  that,  when  I  came  here 
at  your  summons,  it  was  prepared  to  fight.  Let 
me  accordingly  remind  you,"  I  pursued,  "  in  con- 
nection with  that,  of  the  one  sense  in  which  you 
were,  as  you  a  moment  ago  said,  talked  over  by  me. 
I  persuaded  you  apparently  that  Long's  metamor- 
phosis was  not  the  work  of  Lady  John.  I  persuad- 
ed you  of  nothing  else." 

She  looked  down  a  little,  as  if  again  at  a  trap. 
"  You  persuaded  me  that  it  was  the  work  of  some- 
body." Then  she  held  up  her  head.  "  It  came  to 
the  same  thing." 

If  I  had  credit  then  for  my  trap  it  at  least  might 
serve.  "  The  same  thing  as  what?  " 

"  Why,  as  claiming  that  it  was  she." 

"  Poor  May — '  claiming '  ?  When  I  insisted  it 
wasn't!" 

Mrs.  Brissenden  flushed.  "  You  didn't  insist  it 
wasn't  anybody ! " 

"Why  should  I  when  I  didn't  believe  so?  I've 
left  you  in  no  doubt,"  I  indulgently  smiled,  "  of  my 
beliefs.  It  was  somebody — and  it  still  is." 

She  looked  about  at  the  top  of  the  room.  "  The 
mistake's  now  yours." 

269 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

I  watched  her  an  instant.  "  Can  you  tell  me  then 
what  one  does  to  recover  from  such  mistakes?  " 

"  One  thinks  a  little." 

"  Ah,  the  more  I've  thought  the  deeper  I've 
sunk!  And  that  seemed  to  me  the  case  with  you 
this  morning,"  I  added,  "  the  more  you  thought." 

"  Well,  then,"  she  frankly  declared,  "  I  must  have 
stopped  thinking ! " 

It  was  a  phenomenon,  I  sufficiently  showed,  that 
thought  only  could  meet.  "  Could  you  tell  me  then 
at  what  point?" 

She  had  to  think  even  to  do  that.  "  At  what 
point?  " 

"  What  in  particular  determined,  I  mean,  your 
arrest?  You  surely  didn't — launched  as  you  were 
— stop  short  all  of  yourself." 

She  fronted  me,  after  all,  still  so  bravely  that  I 
believed  her  for  an  instant  not  to  be,  on  this  article, 
without  an  answer  she  could  produce.  The  un- 
expected therefore  broke  for  me  when  she  fairly 
produced  none.  "  I  confess  I  don't  make  out,"  she 
simply  said,  "  while  you  seem  so  little  pleased  that 
I  agree  with  you." 

I  threw  back,  in  despair,  both  head  and  hands. 
"  But,  you  poor,  dear  thing,  you  don't  in  the  least 
agree  with  me!  You  flatly  contradict  me.  You 
deny  my  miracle." 

"  I  don't  believe  in  miracles,"  she  panted. 

"  So  I  exactly,  at  this  late  hour,  learn.  But  I 
270 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

don't  insist  on  the  name.  Nothing  is,  I  admit,  a 
miracle  from  the  moment  one's  on  the  track  of  the 
cause,  which  was  the  scent  we  were  following.  Call 
the  thing  simply  my  fact." 

She  gave  her  high  head  a  toss.  "  If  it's  yours  it's 
nobody  else's !  " 

"  Ah,  there's  just  the  question — if  we  could  know 
all!  But  my  point  is  precisely,  for  the  present, 
that  you  do  deny  it." 

"  Of  course  I  deny  it,"  said  Mrs.  Briss. 

I  took  a  moment,  but  my  silence  held  her. 
:'  Your  i  of  course '  would  be  what  I  would  again 
contest,  what  I  would  denounce  and  brand  as  the 
word  too  much — the  word  that  spoils,  were  it  not 
that  it  seems  best,  that  it  in  any  case  seems  neces- 
sary, to  let  all  question  of  your  consistency  go." 

On  that  I  had  paused,  and,  as  I  felt  myself  still 
holding  her,  I  was  not  surprised  when  my  pause  had 
an  effect.  "  You  do  let  it  go?  " 

She  had  tried,  I  could  see,  to  put  the  inquiry  as  all 
ironic.  But  it  was  not  all  ironic;  it  was,  in  fact,  lit- 
tle enough  so  to  suggest  for  me  some  intensification 
— not  quite,  I  trust,  wanton — of  her  suspense.  I 
should  be  at  a  loss  to  say  indeed  how  much  it  sug- 
gested or  half  of  what  it  told.  These  things  again 
almost  violently  moved  me,  and  if  I,  after  an  instant, 
in  my  silence,  turned  away,  it  was  not  only  to  keep 
her  waiting,  but  to  make  my  elation  more  private.  I 
turned  away  to  that  tune  that  I  literally,  for  a  few 

271 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

minutes,  quitted  her,  availing  myself  thus,  superfi- 
cially, of  the  air  of  weighing  a  consequence.  I  wan- 
dered off  twenty  steps  and,  while  I  passed  my  hand 
over  my  troubled  head,  looked  vaguely  at  objects  on 
tables  and  sniffed  absently  at  flowers  in  bowls.  I 
don't  know  how  long  I  so  lost  myself,  nor  quite  why 
— as  I  must  for  some  time  have  kept  it  up — my  com- 
panion didn't  now  really  embrace  her  possible  alter- 
native of  rupture  and  retreat.  Or  rather,  as  to  her 
action  in  this  last  matter,  I  am,  and  was  on  the  spot, 
clear :  I  knew  at  that  moment  how  much  she  knew 
she  must  not  leave  me  without  having  got  from  me. 
It  came  back  in  waves,  in  wider  glimpses,  and  pro- 
duced in  so  doing  the  excitement  I  had  to  control. 
It  could  not  but  be  exciting  to  talk,  as  we  talked, 
on  the  basis  of  those  suppressed  processes  and  un- 
avowed  references  which  made  the  meaning  of  our 
meeting  so  different  from  its  form.  We  knew  our- 
selves— what  moved  me,  that  is,  was  that  she  knew 
me — to  mean,  at  every  point,  immensely  more  than 
I  said  or  than  she  answered;  just  as  she  saw  me,  at 
the  same  points,  measure  the  space  by  which  her 
answers  fell  short.  This  made  my  conversation 
with  her  a  totally  other  and  a  far  more  interesting 
thing  than  any  colloquy  I  had  ever  enjoyed;  it  had 
even  a  sharpness  that  had  not  belonged,  a  few  hours 
before,  to  my  extraordinary  interview  with  Mrs. 
Server.  She  couldn't  afford  to  quarrel  with  me  for 
catechising  her;  she  couldn't  afford  not  to  have 

272 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

kept,  in  her  way,  faith  with  me;  she  couldn't  afford, 
after  inconceivable  passages  with  Long,  not  to  treat 
me  as  an  observer  to  be  squared.  She  had  come 
down  to  square  me;  she  was  hanging  on  to  square 
me;  she  was  suffering  and  stammering  and  lying; 
she  was  both  carrying  it  grandly  off  and  letting  it 
desperately  go :  all,  all  to  square  me.  And  I  caught 
moreover  perfectly  her  vision  of  her  way,  and  I  fol- 
lowed her  way  even  while  I  judged  it,  feeling  that 
the  only  personal  privilege  I  could,  after  all,  save 
from  the  whole  business  was  that  of  understanding. 
I  couldn't  save  Mrs.  Server,  and  I  couldn't  save  poor 
Briss;  I  could,  however,  guard,  to  the  last  grain  of 
gold,  my  precious  sense  of  their  loss,  their  disinte- 
gration and  their  doom;  and  it  was  for  this  I  was 
now  bargaining. 

It  was  of  giving  herself  away  just  enough  not  to 
spoil  for  me  my  bargain  over  my  treasure  that  Mrs. 
Briss's  bribe  would  consist.  She  would  let  me  see 
as  far  as  I  would  if  she  could  feel  sure  I  would  do 
nothing;  and  it  was  exactly  in  this  question  of  how 
much  I  might  have  scared  my  couple  into  the  sense 
I  could  "  do  "  that  the  savour  of  my  suspense  most 
dwelt.  I  could  have  made  them  uneasy,  of  course, 
only  by  making  them  fear  my  intervention;  and  yet 
the  idea  of  their  being  uneasy  was  less  wonderful 
than  the  idea  of  my  having,  with  all  my  precautions, 
communicated  to  them  a  consciousness.  This  was 
so  the  last  thing  I  had  wanted  to  do  that  I  felt,  dur- 

273 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

ing  my  swift  excursion,  how  much  time  I  should 
need  in  the  future  for  recovery  of  the  process — all 
of  the  finest  wind-blown  intimations,  woven  of 
silence  and  secrecy  and  air — by  which  their  sus- 
picion would  have  throbbed  into  life.  I  could  only, 
provisionally  and  sketchily,  figure  it  out,  this  sus- 
picion, as  having,  little  by  little — not  with  a  sudden 
start — felt  itself  in  the  presence  of  my  own,  just  as 
my  own  now  returned  the  compliment.  What 
came  back  to  me,  as  I  have  said,  in  waves  and  wider 
glimpses,  was  the  marvel  of  their  exchange  of  sig- 
nals, the  phenomenon,  scarce  to  be  represented,  of 
their  breaking  ground  with  each  other.  They  both 
had  their  treasure  to  guard,  and  they  had  looked  to 
each  other  with  the  instinct  of  help.  They  had  felt, 
on  either  side,  the  victim  possibly  slip,  and  they  had 
connected  the  possibility  with  an  interest  discerni- 
bly  inspired  in  me  by  this  personage,  and  with  a 
relation  discoverably  established  by  that  interest. 
It  wouldn't  have  been  a  danger,  perhaps,  if  the  two 
victims  hadn't  slipped  together;  and  more  amazing, 
doubtless,  than  anything  else  was  the  recognition 
by  my  sacrificing  couple  of  the  opportunity  drawn 
by  my  sacrificed  from  being  conjoined  in  my  char- 
ity. How  could  they  know,  Gilbert  Long  and  Mrs. 
Briss,  that  actively  to  communicate  a  consciousness 
to  my  other  friends  had  no  part  in  my  plan?  The 
most  I  had  dreamed  of,  I  could  honourably  feel,  was 
to  assure  myself  of  their  independent  possession  of 

274 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

one.  These  things  were  with  me  while,  as  I  have 
noted,  I  made  Grace  Brissenden  wait,  and  it  was 
also  with  me  that,  though  I  condoned  her  deviation, 
she  must  take  it  from  me  as  a  charity.  I  had  pres- 
ently achieved  another  of  my  full  revolutions,  and 
I  faced  her  again  with  a  view  of  her  overture  and 
my  answer  to  her  last  question.  The  terms  were 
not  altogether  what  my  pity  could  have  wished,  but 
I  sufficiently  kept  everything  together  to  have  to 
see  that  there  were  limits  to  my  choice.  "  Yes,  I  let 
it  go,  your  change  of  front,  though  it  vexes  me  a 
little — and  I'll  in  a  moment  tell  you  why — to  have 
to.  But  let  us  put  it  that  it's  on  a  condition." 

"Change  of  front?"  she  murmured  while  she 
looked  at  me.  "  Your  expressions  are  not  of  the 
happiest." 

But  I  saw  it  was  only  again  to  cover  a  doubt. 
My  condition,  for  her,  was  questionable,  and  I  felt 
it  would  be  still  more  so  on  her  hearing  what  it  was. 
Meanwhile,  however,  in  spite  of  her  qualification  of 
it,  I  had  fallen  back,  once  and  for  all,  on  pure  be- 
nignity. "  It  scarce  matters  if  I'm  clumsy  when 
you're  practically  so  bland.  I  wonder  if  you'll 
understand,"  I  continued,  "  if  I  make  you  an  ex- 
planation." 

"  Most  probably,"  she  answered,  as  handsome  as 
ever,  "  not." 

"  Let  me  at  all  events  try  you.  It's  moreover  the 
one  I  just  promised;  which  was  no  more  indeed 

275 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

than  the  development  of  a  feeling  I've  already  per- 
mitted myself  to  show  you.  I  lose  " — I  brought  it 
out — "  by  your  agreeing  with  me !  " 

"'Lose'?" 

"Yes;  because  while  we  disagreed  you  were,  in 
spite  of  that,  on  the  right  side." 

"  And  what  do  you  call  the  right  side?  " 

"  Well  " — I  brought  it  out  again — "  on  the  same 
side  as  my  imagination." 

But  it  gave  her  at  least  a  chance.  "  Oh,  your 
imagination !  " 

"  Yes — I  know  what  you  think  of  it;  you've  suffi- 
ciently hinted  how  little  that  is.  But  it's  precisely 
because  you  regard  it  as  rubbish  that  I  now  appeal 
to  you." 

She  continued  to  guard  herself  by  her  surprises. 
"Appeal?  I  thought  you  were  on  the  ground, 
rather,"  she  beautifully  smiled,  "  of  dictation." 

"  Well,  I'm  that  too.  I  dictate  my  terms.  But 
my  terms  are  in  themselves  the  appeal."  I  was  in- 
genious but  patient.  "  See?  " 

"  How  in  the  world  can  I  see?  " 

"  Voyons,  then.  Light  or  darkness,  my  imagina- 
tion rides  me.  But  of  course  if  it's  all  wrong  I  want 
to  get  rid  of  it.  You  can't,  naturally,  help  me  to 
destroy  the  faculty  itself,  but  you  can  aid  in  the  de- 
feat of  its  application  to  a  particular  case.  It  was 
because  you  so  smiled,  before,  on  that  application, 
that  I  valued  even  my  minor  difference  with  you; 

276 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

and  what  I  refer  to  as  my  loss  is  the  fact  that  your 
frown  leaves  me  struggling  alone.  The  best  thing 
for  me,  accordingly,  as  I  feel,  is  to  get  rid  altogether 
of  the  obsession.  The  way  to  do  that,  clearly,  since 
you've  done  it,  is  just  to  quench  the  fire.  By  the 
fire  I  mean  the  flame  of  the  fancy  that  blazed  so  for 
us  this  morning.  What  the  deuce  have  you,  for 
yourself,  poured  on  it?  Tell  me,"  I  pleaded,  "  and 
teach  me." 

Equally  with  her  voice  her  face  echoed  me  again. 
"Teach  you?" 

"  To  abandon  my  false  gods.  Lead  me  back  to 
peace  by  the  steps  you've  trod.  By  so  much  as  they 
must  have  remained  traceable  to  you,  shall  I  find 
them  of  interest  and  profit.  They  must  in  fact  be 
most  remarkable :  won't  they  even — for  what  /  may 
find  in  them — be  more  remarkable  than  those  we 
should  now  be  taking  together  if  we  hadn't  sepa- 
rated, if  we  hadn't  pulled  up?  "  That  was  a  propo- 
sition I  could  present  to  her  with  candour,  but  be- 
fore her  absence  of  precipitation  had  permitted 
her  much  to  consider  it  I  had  already  followed 
it  on.  "  You'll  just  tell  me,  however,  that  since 
I  do  pull  up  and  turn  back  with  you  we  shall 
just  have  not  separated.  Well,  then,  so  much 
the  better — I  see  you're  right.  But  I  want,"  I 
earnestly  declared,  "  not  to  lose  an  inch  of  the 
journey." 

She  watched  me  now  as  a  Roman  lady  at  the  cir- 
277 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

cus  may  have  watched  an  exemplary  Christian. 
"  The  journey  has  been  a  very  simple  one,"  she 
said  at  last.  "  With  my  mind  made  up  on  a  single 
point,  it  was  taken  at  a  stride." 

I  was  all  interest.  "  On  a  single  point?  "  Then, 
as,  almost  excessively  deliberate,  she  still  kept  me : 
'  You  mean  the  still  commonplace  character  of 
Long's — a — consciousness?  " 

She  had  taken  at  last  again  the  time  she  required. 
"  Do  you  know  what  I  think?  " 

"  It's  exactly  what  I'm  pressing  you  to  make  in- 
telligible." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Briss,  "  I  think  you're  crazy." 

It  naturally  struck  me.     "  Crazy?  " 

"  Crazy." 

I  turned  it  over.  "  But  do  you  call  that  intel- 
ligible?" 

She  did  it  justice.  "  No :  I  don't  suppose  it  can 
be  so  for  you  if  you  are  insane." 

I  risked  the  long  laugh  which  might  have  seemed 
that  of  madness.  "  '  If  I  am  '  is  lovely !  "  And 
whether  or  not  it  was  the  special  sound,  in  my  ear, 
of  my  hilarity,  I  remember  just  wondering  if  per- 
haps I  mightn't  be.  "  Dear  woman,  it's  the  point 
at  issue ! " 

But  it  was  as  if  she  too  had  been  affected.  "  It's 
not  at  issue  for  me  now." 

I  gave  her  then  the  benefit  of  my  stirred  specula- 
tion. "  It  always  happens,  of  course,  that  one  is 

278 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

one's  self  the  last  to  know.     You're  perfectly  con- 
vinced?" 

She  not  ungracefully,  for  an  instant,  faltered;  but 

since  I  really  would  have  it !     "  Oh,  so  far  as 

what  we've  talked  of  is  concerned,  perfectly !  " 

"  And  it's  actually  what  you've  come  down  then 
to  tell  me?" 

"  Just  exactly  what.  And  if  it's  a  surprise  to 
you,"  she  added,  "  that  I  should  have  come  down — 
why,  I  can  only  say  I  was  prepared  for  anything." 

"  Anything?  "  I  smiled. 

"  In  the  way  of  a  surprise." 

I  thought;  but  her  preparation  was  natural, 
though  in  a  moment  I  could  match  it.  "  Do  you 
know  that's  what  I  was  too?  " 

"Prepared ?" 

"  For  anything  in  the  way  of  a  surprise.  But 
only  from  you,"  I  explained.  "  And  of  course — 
yes,"  I  mused,  "  I've  got  it.  If  I  am  crazy,"  I 
went  on — "  it's  indeed  simple," 

She  appeared,  however,  to  feel,  from  the  influ- 
ence of  my  present  tone,  the  impulse,  in  courtesy, 
to  attenuate.  "  Oh,  I  don't  pretend  it's  simple !  " 

"No?  I  thought  that  was  just  what  you  did 
pretend." 

"  I  didn't  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Briss,  "  that  you'd 
like  it.  I  didn't  suppose  that  you'd  accept  it  or 

even  listen  to  it.     But  I  owed  it  to  you "     She 

hesitated. 

279 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

'  You  owed  it  to  me  to  let  me  know  what  you 
thought  of  me  even  should  it  prove  very  disagree- 
able? " 

That  perhaps  was  more  than  she  could  adopt. 
"  I  owed  it  to  myself/'  she  replied  with  a  touch  of 
austerity. 

"  To  let  me  know  I'm  demented?  " 

"  To  let  you  know  I'm  not."  We  each  looked,  I 
think,  when  she  had  said  it,  as  if  she  had  done  what 
she  said.  "  That's  all." 

"  All?  "  I  wailed.  "  Ah,  don't  speak  as  if  it  were 
so  little.  It's  much.  It's  everything." 

"  It's  anything  you  will !  "  said  Mrs.  Briss  im- 
patiently. "  Good-night." 

"  Good-night?  "  I  was  aghast.  "  You  leave  me 
on  it?" 

She  appeared  to  profess  for  an  instant  all  the 
freshness  of  her  own  that  she  was  pledged  to  guard. 
"  I  must  leave  you  on  something.  I  couldn't  come 
to  spend  a  whole  hour." 

"  But  do  you  think  it's  so  quickly  done — to  per- 
suade a  man  he's  crazy?  " 

"  I  haven't  expected  to  persuade  you." 

"  Only  to  throw  out  the  hint?  " 

"  Well,"  she  admitted,  "  it  would  be  good  if  it 
could  work  in  you.  But  I've  told  you,"  she  added 
as  if  to  wind  up  and  have  done,  "  what  determined 
me." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  "—oh,  I  protested !  "  That's 
280 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

just  what  you've  not  told  me.  The  reason  of  your 
change " 

"  I'm  not  speaking,"  she  broke  in,  "  of  my 
change." 

"  Ah,  but  /  am ! "  I  declared  with  a  sharpness 
that  threw  her  back  for  a  minute  on  her  reserves. 
"  It's  your  change,"  I  again  insisted,  "  that's  the 
interesting  thing.  If  I'm  crazy,  I  must  once  more 
remind  you,  you  were  simply  crazy  with  me;  and 
how  can  I  therefore  be  indifferent  to  your  recovery 
of  your  wit  or  let  you  go  without  having  won  from 
you  the  secret  of  your  remedy?  "  I  shook  my  head 
with  kindness,  but  with  decision.  "  You  mustn't 
leave  me  till  you've  placed  it  in  my  hand." 

The  reserves  I  had  spoken  of  were  not,  however, 
to  fail  her.  "  I  thought  you  just  said  that  you  let 
my  inconsistency  go." 

"  Your  moral  responsibility  for  it  —  perfectly. 
But  how  can  I  show  a  greater  indulgence  than  by 
positively  desiring  to  enter  into  its  history?  It's  in 
that  sense  that,  as  I  say,"  I  developed,  "  I  do  speak 
of  your  change.  There  must  have  been  a  given 
moment  when  the  need  of  it — or  when,  in  other 
words,  the  truth  of  my  personal  state — dawned 
upon  you.  That  moment  is  the  key  to  your  whole 
position — the  moment  for  us  to  fix." 

"  Fix  it,"  said  poor  Mrs.  Briss,  "  when  you 
like!" 

"  I  had  much  rather,"  I  protested,  "  fix  it  when 
281 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

you  like.  I  want — you  surely  must  understand  if 
I  want  anything  of  it  at  all — to  get  it  absolutely 
right."  Then  as  this  plea  seemed  still  not  to  move 
her,  I  once  more  compressed  my  palms.  "  You 
won't  help  me?  " 

She  bridled  at  last  with  a  higher  toss.  "  It  wasn't 
with  such  views  I  came.  I  don't  believe,"  she  went 
on  a  shade  more  patiently,  "  I  don't  believe — if  you 
want  to  know  the  reason — that  you're  really  sin- 
cere." 

Here  indeed  was  an  affair.  "  Not  sincere — 
If  " 

"  Not  properly  honest.     I  mean  in  giving  up." 

"  Giving  up  what?  " 

"  Why,  everything." 

"  Everything?  Is  it  a  question  " — I  stared — "  of 
that?  " 

'  You  would  if  you  were  honest." 

"  Everything?  "  I  repeated. 

Again  she  stood  to  it.     "  Everything." 

"  But  is  that  quite  the  readiness  I've  professed?  " 

"  If  it  isn't  then,  what  is?  " 

I  thought  a  little.  "  Why,  isn't  it  simply  a  mat- 
ter rather  of  the  renunciation  of  a  confidence?  " 

"  In  your  sense  and  your  truth?  "  This,  she  in- 
dicated, was  all  she  asked.  "  Well,  what  is  that  but 
everything?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  I  reflected,  "  perhaps."  In  fact,  it 
no  doubt  was.  "  We'll  take  it  then  for  everything, 

282 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

and  it's  as  so  taking  it  that  I  renounce.     I  keep 
nothing  at  all.     Now  do  you  believe  I'm  honest?  " 

She  hesitated.     "  Well — yes,  if  you  say  so." 

"  Ah,"  I  sighed,  "  I  see  you  don't !  What  can  I 
do,"  I  asked,  "  to  prove  it?  " 

"  You  can  easily  prove  it.     You  can  let  me  go." 

"  Does  it  strike  you,"  I  considered,  "  that  I 
should  take  your  going  as  a  sign  of  your  belief?  " 

"  Of  what  else,  then?  " 

"  Why,  surely,"  I  promptly  replied,  "  my  assent 
to  your  leaving  our  discussion  where  it  stands  would 
constitute  a  very  different  symptom.  Wouldn't  it 
much  rather  represent,"  I  inquired,  "  a  failure  of 
belief  on  my  own  part  in  your  honesty?  If  you  can 
judge  me,  in  short,  as  only  pretending " 

"  Why  shouldn't  you,"  she  put  in  for  me,  "  also 
judge  me?  What  have  I  to  gain  by  pretending?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  I  returned,  laughing,  "  if  you'll 
tell  me  what  /  have." 

She  appeared  to  ask  herself  if  she  could,  and  then 
to  decide  in  the  negative.  "  If  I  don't  understand 
you  in  any  way,  of  course  I  don't  in  that.  Put  it,  at 
any  rate,"  she  now  rather  wearily  quavered,  "  that 
one  of  us  has  as  little  to  gain  as  the  other.  I  believe 
you,"  she  repeated.  "  There !  " 

"  Thanks,"  I  smiled,  "  for  the  way  you  say  it.  If 
you  don't,  as  you  say,  understand  me,"  I  insisted, 
"  it's  because  you  think  me  crazy.  And  if  you  think 
me  crazy  I  don't  see  how  you  can  leave  me." 

283 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

She  presently  met  this.  "  If  I  believe  you're  sin- 
cere in  saying  you  give  up  I  believe  you've  recov- 
ered. And  if  I  believe  you've  recovered  I  don't 
think  you  crazy.  It's  simple  enough." 

"  Then  why  isn't  it  simple  to  understand  me?  " 

She  turned  about,  and  there  were  moments  in  her 
embarrassment,  now,  from  which  she  fairly  drew 
beauty.  Her  awkwardness  was  somehow  noble; 
her  sense  of  her  predicament  was  in  itself  young. 
"  Is  it  ever?  "  she  charmingly  threw  out. 

I  felt  she  must  see  at  this  juncture  how  wonderful 
I  found  her,  and  even  that  that  impression — one's 
whole  consciousness  of  her  personal  victory — was  a 
force  that,  in  the  last  resort,  was  all  on  her  side. 
"  It  was  quite  worth  your  while,  this  sitting  up  to 
this  hour,  to  show  a  fellow  how  you  bloom  when 
other  women  are  fagged.  If  that  was  really,  with 
the  truth  that  we're  so  pulling  about  laid  bare,  what 
you  did  most  want  to  show,  why,  then,  you've 
splendidly  triumphed,  and  I  congratulate  and  thank 
you.  No,"  I  quickly  went  on,  "  I  daresay,  to  do 
you  justice,  the  interpretation  of  my  tropes  and 
figures  isn't  '  ever '  perfectly  simple.  You  doubt- 
less have  driven  me  into  a  corner  with  my  danger- 
ous explosive,  and  my  only  fair  course  must  be 
therefore  to  sit  on  it  till  you  get  out  of  the  room. 
I'm  sitting  on  it  now;  and  I  think  you'll  find  you 
can  get  out  as  soon  as  you've  told  me  this.  Was 
the  moment  your  change  of  view  dawned  upon  you 

284 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

the  moment  of  our  exchanging  a  while  ago,  in  the 
drawing-room,  our  few  words?  " 

The  light  that,  under  my  last  assurances,  had  so 
considerably  revived  faded  in  her  a  little  as  she  saw 
me  again  tackle  the  theme  of  her  inconstancy;  but 
the  prospect  of  getting  rid  of  me  on  these  terms 
made  my  inquiry,  none  the  less,  worth  trying  to 
face.  "  That  moment?  "  She  showed  the  effort  to 
think  back. 

I  gave  her  every  assistance.  "  It  was  when,  after 
the  music,  I  had  been  talking  to  Lady  John.  You 
were  on  a  sofa,  not  far  from  us,  with  Gilbert  Long; 
and  when,  on  Lady  John's  dropping  me,  I  made  a 
slight  movement  toward  you,  you  most  graciously 
met  it  by  rising  and  giving  me  a  chance  while  Mr. 
Long  walked  away." 

It  was  as  if  I  had  hung  the  picture  before  her, 
so  that  she  had  fairly  to  look  at  it.  But  the  point 
that  she  first,  in  her  effort,  took  up  was  not,  super- 
ficially, the  most  salient.  "  Mr.  Long  walked 
away?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  that  had  anything 
to  do  with  it." 

She  continued  to  think.     "  To  do  with  what?  " 

"  With  the  way  the  situation  comes  back  to  me 
now  as  possibly  marking  your  crisis." 

She  wondered.     "  Was  it  a  '  situation  '?  " 

"  That's  just  what  I'm  asking  you.  Was  it? 
Was  it  the  situation?  " 

285 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

But  she  had  quite  fallen  away  again.  "  I  remem- 
ber the  moment  you  mean — it  was  when  I  said  I 
would  come  to  you  here.  But  why  should  it  have 
struck  you  as  a  crisis?  " 

"  It  didn't  in  the  least  at  the  time,  for  I  didn't 
then  know  you  were  no  longer  '  with  '  me.  But  in 
the  light  of  what  I've  since  learned  from  you  I  seem 
to  recover  an  impression  which,  on  the  spot,  was 
only  vague.  The  impression,"  I  explained,  "  of 
your  taking  a  decision  that  presented  some  diffi- 
culty, but  that  was  determined  by  something  that 
had  then — and  even  perhaps  a  little  suddenly — 
come  up  for  you.  That's  the  point  " — I  continued 
to  unfold  my  case — "  on  which  my  question  bears. 
Was  this  '  something '  your  conclusion,  then  and 
there,  that  there's  nothing  in  anything?  " 

She  kept  her  distance.     "  '  In  anything  '?  " 

"  And  that  I  could  only  be,  accordingly,  out  of 
my  mind?  Come,"  I  patiently  pursued;  "  such  a 
perception  as  that  had,  at  some  instant  or  other,  to 
begin;  and  I'm  only  trying  to  aid  you  to  recollect 
when  the  devil  it  did !  " 

"  Does  it  particularly  matter? "  Mrs.  Briss  in- 
quired. 

I  felt  my  chin.  "  That  depends  a  little — doesn't 
it? — on  what  you  mean  by  *  matter'!  It  matters 
for  your  meeting  my  curiosity,  and  that  matters,  in 
its  turn,  as  we  just  arranged,  for  my  releasing  you. 
You  may  ask  of  course  if  my  curiosity  itself  matters; 

286 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

but  to  that,  fortunately,  my  reply  can  only  be  of  the 
clearest.  The  satisfaction  of  my  curiosity  is  the 
pacification  of  my  mind.  We've  granted,  we've  ac- 
cepted, I  again  press  upon  you,  in  respect  to  that 
precarious  quantity,  its  topsy-turvy  state.  Only 
give  me  a  lead;  I  don't  ask  you  for  more.  Let  me 
for  an  instant  see  play  before  me  any  feeble  reflec- 
tion whatever  of  the  flash  of  new  truth  that  unset- 
tled you." 

I  thought  for  a  moment  that,  in  her  despair,  she 
would  find  something  that  would  do.  But  she  only 
found :  "  It  didn't  come  in  a  flash." 

I  remained  all  patience.  "  It  came  little  by  little? 
It  began  then  perhaps  earlier  in  the  day  than  the 
moment  to  which  I  allude?  And  yet,"  I  continued, 
"  we  were  pretty  well  on  in  the  day,  I  must  keep  in 
mind,  when  I  had  your  last  news  of  your  credulity." 

"My  credulity?" 

"  Call  it  then,  if  you  don't  like  the  word,  your 
sympathy." 

I  had  given  her  time,  however,  to  produce  at  last 
something  that,  it  visibly  occurred  to  her,  might 
pass.  "  As  soon  as  I  was  not  with  you — I  mean 
with  you  personally — you  never  had  my  sympathy." 

"  Is  my  person  then  so  irresistible?  " 

Well,  she  was  brave.  "  It  was.  But  it's  not, 
thank  God,  now !  " 

"  Then  there  we  are  again  at  our  mystery !  I 
don't  think,  you  know,"  I  made  out  for  her,  "  it  was 

287 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

my  person,  really,  that  gave  its  charm  to  my  theory; 
I  think  it  was  much  more  my  theory  that  gave  its 
charm  to  my  person.  My  person,  I  flatter  myself, 
has  remained  through  these  few  hours — hours  of 
tension,  but  of  a  tension,  you  see,  purely  intellectual 
— as  good  as  ever;  so  that  if  we're  not,  even  in 
our  anomalous  situation,  in  danger  from  any  such 
source,  it's  simply  that  my  theory  is  dead  and  that 
the  blight  of  the  rest  is  involved." 

My  words  were  indeed  many,  but  she  plumped 
straight  through  them.  "  As  soon  as  I  was  away 
from  you  I  hated  you." 

"  Hated  me?  " 

"Well,  hated  what  you  call  'the  rest' — hated 
your  theory." 

"  I  see.  Yet,"  I  reflected,  "  you're  not  at  present 
— though  you  wish  to  goodness,  no  doubt,  you 
were — away  from  me." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  now,"  she  said  with  courage; 
"  since — for  you  see  I  believe  you — we're  away 
from  your  delusions." 

"  You  wouldn't,  in  spite  of  your  belief,"  —  I 
smiled  at  her — "  like  to  be  a  little  further  off  yet?  " 
But  before  she  could  answer,  and  because  also, 
doubtless,  the  question  had  too  much  the  sound  of 
a  taunt,  I  came  up,  as  if  for  her  real  convenience, 
quite  in  another  place.  "  Perhaps  my  idea — my  tim- 
ing, that  is,  of  your  crisis — is  the  result,  in  my  mind, 
of  my  own  association  with  that  particular  instant. 

288 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

It  comes  back  to  me  that  what  I  was  most  full  of 
while  your  face  signed  to  me  and  your  voice  then  so 
graciously  confirmed  it,  and  while  too,  as  I've  said, 
Long  walked  away — what  I  was  most  full  of,  as  a 
consequence  of  another  go,  just  ended,  at  Lady 
John,  was,  once  more,  this  same  Lady  John's  want 
of  adjustability  to  the  character  you  and  I,  in  our 
associated  speculation  of  the  morning,  had  so  can- 
didly tried  to  fit  her  with.  I  was  still  even  then, 
you  see,  speculating — all  on  my  own  hook,  alas ! — 
and  it  had  just  rolled  over  me  with  renewed  force 
that  she  was  nothing  whatever,  not  the  least  little 
bit,  to  our  purpose.  The  moment,  in  other  words, 
if  you  understand,  happened  to  be  one  of  my  mo- 
ments; so  that,  by  the  same  token,  I  simply  won- 
dered if  it  mightn't  likewise  have  happened  to  be 
one  of  yours." 

"  It  was  one  of  mine,"  Mrs.  Briss  replied  as 
promptly  as  I  could  reasonably  have  expected;  "  in 
the  sense  that — as  you've  only  to  consider — it  was 
to  lead  more  or  less  directly  to  these  present  words 
of  ours." 

If  I  had  only  to  consider,  nothing  was  more  easy; 
but  each  time  I  considered,  I  was  ready  to  show, 
the  less  there  seemed  left  by  the  act.  "  Ah,  but 
you  had  then  already  backed  out.  Won't  you 
understand — for  you're  a  little  discouraging — that 
I  want  to  catch  you  at  the  earlier  stage?  " 

"  To  '  catch  J  me?  "     I  had  indeed  expressions! 
289 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

"  Absolutely  catch !  Focus  you  under  the  first 
shock  of  the  observation  that  was  to  make  every- 
thing fall  to  pieces  for  you." 

"  But  I've  told  you,"  she  stoutly  resisted,  "  that 
there  was  no  '  first '  shock." 

"  Well,  then,  the  second  or  the  third." 

"  There  was  no  shock,"  Mrs.  Briss  magnificently 
said,  "  at  all." 

It  made  me  somehow  break  into  laughter.  "  You 
found  it  so  natural  then — and  you  so  rather  liked  it 
— to  make  up  your  mind  of  a  sudden  that  you  had 
been  steeped  in  the  last  intellectual  intimacy  with 
a  maniac?  " 

She  thought  once  more,  and  then,  as  I  myself  had 
just  previously  done,  came  up  in  another  place.  "  I 
had  at  the  moment  you  speak  of  wholly  given  up 
any  idea  of  Lady  John." 

But  it  was  so  feeble  it  made  me  smile.  "  Of 
course  you  had,  you  poor  innocent !  You  couldn't 
otherwise,  hours  before,  have  strapped  the  saddle 
so  tight  on  another  woman." 

"  I  had  given  up  everything,"  she  stubbornly 
continued. 

"  It's  exactly  what,  in  reference  to  that  juncture, 
I  perfectly  embrace." 

"  Well,  even  in  reference  to  that  juncture,"  she 
resumed,  "  you  may  catch  me  as  much  as  you  like." 
With  which,  suddenly,  during  some  seconds,  I  saw 
her  hold  herself  for  a  leap.  "  You  talk  of  '  focuss- 

290 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

ing/  but  what  else,  even  in  those  minutes,  were  you 
in  fact  engaged  in?  " 

"  Ah,  then,  you  do  recognise  them/'  I  cried — 
"those  minutes?" 

She  took  her  jump,  though  with  something  of  a 
flop.  "  Yes — as,  consenting  thus  to  be  catechised, 
I  cudgel  my  brain  for  your  amusement — I  do  recog- 
nise them.  I  remember  what  I  thought.  You 
focussed — I  felt  you  focus.  I  saw  you  wonder 
whereabouts,  in  what  you  call  our  associated  spec- 
ulation, I  would  by  that  time  be.  I  asked  myself 
whether  you'd  understand  if  I  should  try  to  convey 
to  you  simply  by  my  expression  such  a  look  as 
would  tell  you  all.  By  '  all '  I  meant  the  fact  that, 
sorry  as  I  was  for  you — or  perhaps  for  myself — it 
had  struck  me  as  only  fair  to  let  you  know  as 
straight  as  possible  that  I  was  nowhere.  That  was 
why  I  stared  so,  and  I  of  course  couldn't  explain 
to  you,"  she  lucidly  pursued,  "  to  whom  my  stare 
had  reference." 

I  hung  on  her  lips.     "  But  you  can  now?  " 

"  Perfectly.     To  Mr.  Long." 

I  remained  suspended.  "  Ah,  but  this  is  lovely ! 
It's  what  I  want." 

I  saw  I  should  have  more  of  it,  and  more  in  fact 
came.  "  You  were  saying  just  now  what  you  were 
full  of,  and  I  can  do  the  same.  I  was  full  of  him." 

I,  on  my  side,  was  now  full  of  eagerness.  "  Yes? 
He  had  left  you  full  as  he  walked  away?  " 

291 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

She  winced  a  little  at  this  renewed  evocation  of 
his  retreat,  but  she  took  it  as  she  had  not  done  be- 
fore, and  I  felt  that  with  another  push  she  would 
be  fairly  afloat.  "  He  had  reason  to  walk !  " 

I  wondered.     "  What  had  you  said  to  him?  " 

She  pieced  it  out.  "  Nothing — or  very  little. 
But  I  had  listened." 

"  And  to  what?  " 

"  To  what  he  says.     To  his  platitudes." 

"  His  platitudes?  "     I  stared.     "  Long's?  " 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  he's  a  prize  fool?  " 

I  mused,  sceptical  but  reasonable.     "  He  was." 

"  He  is! " 

Mrs.  Briss  was  superb,  but,  as  I  quickly  felt  I 
might  remind  her,  there  was  her  possibly  weak 
judgment.  "Your  confidence  is  splendid;  only 
mustn't  I  remember  that  your  sense  of  the  finer 
kinds  of  cleverness  isn't  perhaps  absolutely  secure? 
Don't  you  know? — you  also,  till  just  now,  thought 
me  a  prize  fool." 

If  I  had  hoped,  however,  here  to  trip  her  up,  I 
had  reckoned  without,  the  impulse,  and  even  per- 
haps the  example,  that  she  properly  owed  to  me. 
"  Oh,  no — not  anything  of  that  sort,  you,  at  all. 
Only  an  intelligent  man  gone  wrong." 

I  followed,  but  before  I  caught  up,  "  Whereas 
Long's  only  a  stupid  man  gone  right?  "  I  threw  out. 

It  checked  her  too  briefly,  and  there  was  indeed 
something  of  my  own  it  brought  straight  back.  "  I 

292 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

thought  that  just  what  you  told  me,  this  morning  or 
yesterday,  was  that  you  had  never  known  a  case  of 
the  conversion  of  an  idiot." 

I  laughed  at  her  readiness.  Well,  I  had  wanted 
to  make  her  fight !  "  It's  true  it  would  have  been 
the  only  one." 

"  Ah,  you'll  have  to  do  without  it !  "  Oh,  she 
was  brisk  now.  "  And  if  you  know  what  I  think 
of  him,  you  know  no  more  than  he  does." 

"  You  mean  you  told  him?  " 

She  hung  fire  but  an  instant.  "  I  told  him,  prac- 
tically— and  it  was  in  fact  all  I  did  have  to  say  to 
him.  It  was  enough,  however,  and  he  disgustedly 
left  me  on  it.  Then  it  was  that,  as  you  gave  me  the 
chance,  I  tried  to  telegraph  you — to  say  to  you  on 
the  spot  and  under  the  sharp  impression :  '  What 
on  earth  do  you  mean  by  your  nonsense?  It 
doesn't  hold  water ! '  It's  a  pity  I  didn't  succeed !  " 
she  continued — for  she  had  become  almost  voluble. 
"  It  would  have  settled  the  question,  and  I  should 
have  gone  to  bed." 

I  weighed  it  with  the  grimace  that,  I  feared,  had 
become  almost  as  fixed  as  Mrs.  Server's.  "  It 
would  have  settled  the  question  perhaps;  but  I 
should  have  lost  this  impression  of  you." 

"  Oh,  this  impression  of  me !  " 

"  Ah,  but  don't  undervalue  it :  it's  what  I  want ! 
What  was  it  then  Long  had  said?  " 

She  had  it  more  and  more,  but  she  had  it  as 
293 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

nothing  at  all.  "  Not  a  word  to  repeat  —  you 
wouldn't  believe!  He  does  say  nothing  at  all. 
One  can't  remember.  It's  what  I  mean.  I  tried 
him  on  purpose,  while  I  thought  of  you.  But  he's 
perfectly  stupid.  I  don't  see  how  we  can  have 
fancied !  "  I  had  interrupted  her  by  the  move- 
ment with  which  again,  uncontrollably  tossed  on 
one  of  my  surges  of  certitude,  I  turned  away.  How 
deep  they  must  have  been  in  together  for  her  to 
have  so  at  last  gathered  herself  up,  and  in  how 
doubly  interesting  a  light,  above  all,  it  seemed  to 
present  Long  for  the  future!  That  was,  while  I 
warned  myself,  what  I  most  read  in — literally  an  im- 
plication of  the  enhancement  of  this  latter  side  of 
the  prodigy.  If  his  cleverness,  under  the  alarm 
that,  first  stirring  their  consciousness  but  dimly,  had 
so  swiftly  developed  as  to  make  next  of  each  a  mir- 
ror for  the  other,  and  then  to  precipitate  for  them, 
in  some  silence  deeper  than  darkness,  the  exchange 
of  recognitions,  admissions  and,  as  they  certainly 
would  have  phrased  it,  tips — if  his  excited  acute- 
ness  was  henceforth  to  protect  itself  by  dissimula- 
tion, what  wouldn't  perhaps,  for  one's  diversion,  be 
the  new  spectacle  and  wonder?  I  could  in  a  man- 
ner already  measure  this  larger  play  by  the  ampli- 
tude freshly  determined  in  Mrs.  Briss,  and  I  was 
for  a  moment  actually  held  by  the  thought  of  the 
possible  finish  our  friend  would  find  it  in  him  to 
give  to  a  represented,  a  fictive  ineptitude.  The 

294 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

sharpest  jostle  to  my  thought,  in  this  rush,  might 
well  have  been,  I  confess,  the  reflection  that  as  it 
was  I  who  had  arrested,  who  had  spoiled  their  un- 
consciousness, so  it  was  natural  they  should  fight 
against  me  for  a  possible  life  in  the  state  I  had  given 
them  instead.  I  had  spoiled  their  unconsciousness, 
I  had  destroyed  it,  and  it  was  consciousness  alone 
that  could  make  them  effectively  cruel.  Therefore, 
if  they  were  cruel,  it  was  I  who  had  determined  it, 
inasmuch  as,  consciously,  they  could  only  want, 
they  could  only  intend,  to  live.  Wouldn't  that 
question  have  been,  I  managed  even  now  to  ask 
myself,  the  very  basis  on  which  they  had  inscrutably 
come  together?  "  It's  life,  you  know,"  each  had 
said  to  the  other,  "and  I,  accordingly,  can  only  cling 
to  mine.  But  you,  poor  dear — shall  you  give  up?  " 
"Give  up?"  the  other  had  replied;  "for  what  do 
you  take  me?  I  shall  fight  by  your  side,  please, 
and  we  can  compare  and  exchange  weapons  and 
manoeuvres,  and  you  may  in  every  way  count  upon 
me." 

That  was  what,  with  greater  vividness,  was  for 
the  rest  of  the  occasion  before  me,  or  behind  me; 
and  that  I  had  done  it  all  and  had  only  myself  to 
thank  for  it  was  what,  from  this  minute,  by  the  same 
token,  was  more  and  more  for  me  the  inner  essence 
of  Mrs.  Briss's  attitude.  I  know  not  what  heavy 
admonition  of  my  responsibility  had  thus  suddenly 
descended  on  me;  but  nothing,  under  it,  was  indeed 

295 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

more  sensible  than  that  practically  it  paralysed  me. 
And  I  could  only  say  to  myself  that  this  was  the 
price — the  price  of  the  secret  success,  the  lonely 
liberty  and  the  intellectual  joy.  There  were  things 
that  for  so  private  and  splendid  a  revel — that  of  the 
exclusive  king  with  his  Wagner  opera — I  could 
only  let  go,  and  the  special  torment  of  my  case  was 
that  the  condition  of  light,  of  the  satisfaction  of 
curiosity  and  of  the  attestation  of  triumph,  was  in 
this  direct  way  the  sacrifice  of  feeling.  There  was 
no  point  at  which  my  assurance  could,  by  the  sci- 
entific method,  judge  itself  complete  enough  not  to 
regard  feeling  as  an  interference  and,  in  conse- 
quence, as  a  possible  check.  If  it  had  to  go  I  knew 
well  who  went  with  it,  but  I  wasn't  there  to  save 
them.  I  was  there  to  save  my  priceless  pearl  of  an 
inquiry  and  to  harden,  to  that  end,  my  heart.  I 
should  need  indeed  all  my  hardness,  as  well  as  my 
brightness,  moreover,  to  meet  Mrs.  Briss  on  the 
high  level  to  which  I  had  at  last  induced  her  to 
mount,  and,  even  while  I  prolonged  the  movement 
by  which  I  had  momentarily  stayed  her,  the  inter- 
mission of  her  speech  became  itself  for  me  a  hint 
of  the  peculiar  pertinence  of  caution.  It  lasted  long 
enough,  this  drop,  to  suggest  that  her  attention  was 
the  sharper  for  my  having  turned  away  from  it,  and 
I  should  have  feared  a  renewed  challenge  if  she 
hadn't,  by  good  luck,  presently  gone  on:  "  There's 
really. nothing  in  him  at  all!  " 

396 


XIV 

I  HAD  faced  her  again  just  in  time  to  take  it,  and 
I  immediately  made  up  my  mind  how  best  to 
do  so.  "  Then  I  go  utterly  to  pieces !  " 

"  You  shouldn't  have  perched  yourself,"  she 
laughed — she  could  by  this  time  almost  coarsely 
laugh — "  in  such  a  preposterous  place !  " 

"  Ah,  that's  my  affair,"  I  returned,  "  and  if  I  ac- 
cept the  consequences  I  don't  quite  see  what  you've 
to  say  to  it.  That  I  do  accept  them — so  far  as  I 
make  them  out  as  not  too  intolerable  and  you  as  not 
intending  them  to  be — that  I  do  accept  them  is 
what  I've  been  trying  to  signify  to  you.  Only  my 
fall,"  I  added,  "  is  an  inevitable  shock.  You  re- 
marked to  me  a  few  minutes  since  that  you  didn't 
recover  yourself  in  a  flash.  I  differ  from  you,  you 
see,  in  that  7  do;  I  take  my  collapse  all  at  once. 
Here  then  I  am.  I'm  smashed.  I  don't  see,  as  I 
look  about  me,  a  piece  I  can  pick  up.  I  don't  at- 
tempt to  account  for  my  going  wrong;  I  don't 
attempt  to  account  for  yours  with  me;  I  don't  at- 
tempt to  account  for  anything.  If  Long  is  just 
what  he  always  was  it  settles  the  matter,  and  the 
special  clincher  for  us  can  be  but  your  honest  final 

297 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

impression,  made  precisely  more  aware  of  itself  by 
repentance  for  the  levity  with  which  you  had  origi- 
nally yielded  to  my  contagion." 

She  didn't  insist  on  her  repentance;  she  was  too 
taken  up  with  the  facts  themselves.  "  Oh,  but 
add  to  my  impression  everyone  else's  impression! 
Has  anyone  noticed  anything?  " 

"  Ah,  I  don't  know  what  anyone  has  noticed.  I 
haven't,"  I  brooded,  "  ventured — as  you  know — to 
ask  anyone." 

"  Well,  if  you  had  you'd  have  seen — seen,  I  mean, 
all  they  don't  see.  If  they  had  been  conscious 
they'd  have  talked." 

I  thought.     "To  me?" 

"Well,  I'm  not  sure  to  you;  people  have  such 
a  notion  of  what  you  embroider  on  things  that 
they're  rather  afraid  to  commit  themselves  or  to 
lead  you  on :  they're  sometimes  in,  you  know,"  she 
luminously  reminded  me,  "  for  more  than  they  bar- 
gain for,  than  they  quite  know  what  to  do  with,  or 
than  they  care  to  have  on  their  hands." 

I  tried  to  do  justice  to  this  account  of  myself. 
"  You  mean  I  see  so  much?  " 

It  was  a  delicate  matter,  but  she  risked  it.  "  Don't 
you  sometimes  see  horrors?  " 

I  wondered.  "  Well,  names  are  a  convenience. 
People  catch  me  in  the  act?  " 

"  They  certainly  think  you  critical." 

"  And  is  criticism  the  vision  of  horrors?  " 
298 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

She  couldn't  quite  be  sure  where  I  was  taking 
her.  "  It  isn't,  perhaps,  so  much  that  you  see 
them " 

I  started.     "As  that  I  perpetrate  them?" 

She  was  sure  now,  however,  and  wouldn't  have 
it,  for  she  was  serious.  "  Dear  no — you  don't  per- 
petrate anything.  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  if 
you  did !  "  she  tossed  off  with  an  odd  laugh.  "  But 
— always  by  people's  idea — you  like  them." 

I  followed.     "Horrors?" 

"  Well,  you  don't " 

But  she  wouldn't  be  hurried  now.  "  You  take 
them  too  much  for  what  they  are.  You  don't  seem 
to  want " 

"  To  come  down  on  them  strong?  Oh,  but  I 
often  do !  " 

"  So  much  the  better  then." 

"  Though  I  do  like — whether  for  that  or  not,"  I 
hastened  to  confess,  "  to  look  them  first  well  in  the 
face." 

Our  eyes  met,  with  this,  for  a  minute,  but  she 
made  nothing  of  that.  "  When  they  have  no  face, 
then,  you  can't  do  it!  It  isn't  at  all  events  now 
a  question,"  she  went  on,  "  of  people's  keeping  any- 
thing back,  and  you're  perhaps  in  any  case  not  the 
person  to  whom  it  would  first  have  come." 

I  tried  to  think  then  who  the  person  would  be. 
"  It  would  have  come  to  Long  himself?  " 

299 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

But  she  was  impatient  of  this.  "  Oh,  one  doesn't 
know  what  comes — or  what  doesn't — to  Long  him- 
self !  I'm  not  sure  he's  too  modest  to  misrepresent 
— if  he  had  the  intelligence  to  play  a  part." 

"  Which  he  hasn't !  "  I  concluded. 

"  Which  he  hasn't.  It's  to  me  they  might  have 
spoken — or  to  each  other." 

"  But  I  thought  you  exactly  held  they  had  chat- 
tered in  accounting  for  his  state  by  the  influence  of 
Lady  John." 

She  got  the  matter  instantly  straight.  "  Not  a 
bit.  That  chatter  was  mine  only — and  produced 
to  meet  yours.  There  had  so,  by  your  theory,  to  be 
a  woman " 

"  That,  to  oblige  me,  you  invented  her?  Pre- 
cisely. But  I  thought " 

"  You  needn't  have  thought !  "  Mrs.  Briss  broke 
in.  "  I  didn't  invent  her." 

"  Then  what  are  you  talking  about?  " 

"  I  didn't  invent  her,"  she  repeated,  looking  at 
me  hard.  "  She's  true."  I  echoed  it  in  vagueness, 
though  instinctively  again  in  protest;  yet  I  held  my 
breath,  for  this  was  really  the  point  at  which  I  felt 
my  companion's  forces  most  to  have  mustered. 
Her  manner  now  moreover  gave  me  a  great  idea  of 
them,  and  her  whole  air  was  of  taking  immediate 
advantage  of  my  impression.  "  Well,  see  here : 
since  you've  wanted  it,  I'm  afraid  that,  however  lit- 
tle you  may  like  it,  you'll  have  to  take  it.  YouVe 

300 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

pressed  me  for  explanations  and  driven  me  much 
harder  than  you  must  have  seen  I  found  convenient. 
If  I've  seemed  to  beat  about  the  bush  it's  because 
I  hadn't  only  myself  to  think  of.  One  can  be  sim- 
ple for  one's  self — one  can't  be,  always,  for  others." 

"  Ah,  to  whom  do  you  say  it?  "  I  encouragingly 
sighed;  not  even  yet  quite  seeing  for  what  issue  she 
was  heading. 

She  continued  to  make  for  the  spot,  whatever  it 
was,  with  a  certain  majesty.  "  I  should  have  -pre- 
ferred to  tell  you  nothing  more  than  what  I  have 
told  you.  I  should  have  preferred  to  close  our  con- 
versation on  the  simple  announcement  of  my  re- 
covered sense  of  proportion.  But  you  have,  I  see, 
got  me  in  too  deep." 

"  O-oh !  "  I  courteously  attenuated. 

"  You've  made  of  me,"  she  lucidly  insisted,  "  too 
big  a  talker,  too  big  a  thinker,  of  nonsense." 

"  Thank  you,"  I  laughed,  "  for  intimating  that  I 
trifle  so  agreeably." 

"  Oh,  you've  appeared  not  to  mind !  But  let  me 
then  at  last  not  fail  of  the  luxury  of  admitting  that 
/  mind.  Yes,  I  mind  particularly.  I  may  be  bad, 
but  I've  a  grain  of  gumption." 

"  '  Bad  '?  "  It  seemed  more  closely  to  concern 
me. 

"  Bad  I  may  be.  In  fact,"  she  pursued  at  this 
high  pitch  and  pressure,  "  there's  no  doubt  what- 
ever I  am" 

301 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  I'm  delighted  to  hear  it,"  I  cried,  "  for  it  was 
exactly  something  strong  I  wanted  of  you !  " 

"  It  is  then  strong  " — and  I  could  see  indeed  she 
was  ready  to  satisfy  me.  "  You've  worried  me  for 
my  motive  and  harassed  me  for  my  '  moment,'  and 
I've  had  to  protect  others  and,  at  the  cost  of  a  decent 
appearance,  to  pretend  to  be  myself  half  an  idiot. 
I've  had  even,  for  the  same  purpose — if  you  must 
have  it — to  depart  from  the  truth;  to  give  you,  that 
is,  a  false  account  of  the  manner  of  my  escape  from 
your  tangle.  But  now  the  truth  shall  be  told,  and 
others  can  take  care  of  themselves !  "  She  had  so 
wound  herself  up  with  this,  reached  so  the  point  of 
fairly  heaving  with  courage  and  candour,  that  I  for 
an  instant  almost  miscalculated  her  direction  and 
believed  she  was  really  throwing  up  her  cards.  It 
was  as  if  she  had  decided,  on  some  still  finer  lines, 
just  to  rub  my  nose  into  what  I  had  been  spelling 
out;  which  would  have  been  an  anticipation  of  my 
own  journey's  crown  of  the  most  disconcerting  sort. 
I  wanted  my  personal  confidence,  but  I  wanted 
nobody's  confession,  and  without  the  journey's 
crown  where  was  the  personal  confidence?  With- 
out the  personal  confidence,  moreover,  where  was 
the  personal  honour?  That  would  be  really  the  sin- 
gle thing  to  which  I  could  attach  authority,  for  a 
confession  might,  after  all,  be  itself  a  lie.  Anybody, 
at  all  events,  could  fit  the  shoe  to  one.  My  friend's 
intention,  however,  remained  but  briefly  equivocal; 

302 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

my  danger  passed,  and  I  recognised  in  its  place  a 
still  richer  assurance.  It  was  not  the  unnamed,  in 
short,  who  were  to  be  named.  "  Lady  John  is  the 
woman/' 

Yet  even  this  was  prodigious.  "  But  I  thought 
your  present  position  was  just  that  she's  not!  " 

"  Lady  John  is  the  woman,"  Mrs.  Briss  again 
announced. 

"  But  I  thought  your  present  position  was  just 
that  nobody  is !  " 

"  Lady  John  is  the  woman,"  she  a  third  time 
declared. 

It  naturally  left  me  gaping.  "  Then  there  is 
one?  "  I  cried  between  bewilderment  and  joy. 

"  A  woman?  There's  her!  "  Mrs.  Briss  replied 
with  more  force  than  grammar.  "  I  know,"  she 
briskly,  almost  breezily  added,  "  that  I  said  she 
wouldn't  do  (as  I  had  originally  said  she  would  do 
better  than  any  one),  when  you  a  while  ago  men- 
tioned her.  But  that  was  to  save  her." 

"  And  you  don't  care  now,"  I  smiled,  "  if  she's 
lost!" 

She  hesitated.  "  She  is  lost.  But  she  can  take 
care  of  herself." 

I  could  but  helplessly  think  of  her.  "  I'm  afraid 
indeed  that,  with  what  you've  done  with  her,  /  can't 
take  care  of  her.  But  why  is  she  now  to  the  pur- 
pose," I  articulately  wondered,  "  any  more  than  she 
was?  " 

303 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

"  Why?  On  the  very  system  you  yourself  laid 
down.  When  we  took  him  for  brilliant,  she  couldn't 
be.  But  now  that  we  see  him  as  he  is " 

"  We  can  only  see  her  also  as  she  is?  "  Well,  I 
tried,  as  far  as  my  amusement  would  permit,  so  to 
see  her;  but  still  there  were  difficulties.  "  Possibly !  " 
I  at  most  conceded.  "  Do  you  owe  your  discovery, 
however,  wholly  to  my  system?  My  system,  where 
so  much  made  for  protection,"  I  explained,  "  wasn't 
intended  to  have  the  effect  of  exposure." 

"  It  appears  to  have  been  at  all  events  intended," 
my  companion  returned,  "  to  have  the  effect  of 
driving  me  to  the  wall;  and  the  consequence  of 
that  effect  is  nobody's  fault  but  your  own." 

She  was  all  logic  now,  and  I  could  easily  see,  be- 
tween my  light  and  my  darkness,  how  she  would 
remain  so.  Yet  I  was  scarce  satisfied.  "  And  it's 
only  on  '  that  effect ' ?  " 

"  That  I've  made  up  my  mind? "  She  was 
positively  free  at  last  to  enjoy  my  discomfort. 
"  Wouldn't  it  be  surely,  if  your  ideas  were  worth 
anything,  enough?  But  it  isn't,"  she  added,  "  only 
on  that.  It's  on  something  else." 

I  had  after  an  instant  extracted  from  this  the  sin- 
gle meaning  it  could  appear  to  yield.  "  I'm  to 
understand  that  you  know?  " 

"  That  they're  intimate  enough  for  anything?  " 
She  faltered,  but  she  brought  it  out.  "  I  know." 

It  was  the  oddest  thing  in  the  world  for  a  little, 
304 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

the  way  this  affected  me  without  my  at  all  believing 
it.  It  was  preposterous,  hang  though  it  would  with 
her  somersault,  and  she  had  quite  succeeded  in  giv- 
ing it  the  note  of  sincerity.  It  was  the  mere  sound 
of  it  that,  as  I  felt  even  at  the  time,  made  it  a  little 
of  a  blow — a  blow  of  the  smart  of  which  I  was  con- 
scious just  long  enough  inwardly  to  murmur: 
"  What  if  she  should  be  right?  "  She  had  for  these 
seconds  the  advantage  of  stirring  within  me  the 
memory  of  her  having  indeed,  the  day  previous,  at 
Paddington,  "  known  "  as  I  hadn't.  It  had  been 
really  on  what  she  then  knew  that  we  originally 
started,  and  an  element  of  our  start  had  been  that 
I  admired  her  freedom.  The  form  of  it,  at  least — 
so  beautifully  had  she  recovered  herself  —  was 
all  there  now.  Well,  I  at  any  rate  reflected,  it 
wasn't  the  form  that  need  trouble  me,  and  I 
quickly  enough  put  her  a  question  that  related 
only  to  the  matter.  "  Of  course  if  she  is — it  is 
smash!" 

"  And  haven't  you  yet  got  used  to  its  being?  " 
I  kept  my  eyes  on  her;  I  traced  the  buried  figure 
in  the  ruins.     "  She's  good  enough  for  a  fool;  and 
so  " — I  made  it  out — "  is  he !     If  he  is  the  same  ass 
— yes — they  might  be." 

"  And  he  is,"  said  Mrs.  Briss,  "  the  same  ass!  " 
I  continued  to  look  at  her.     "  He  would  have  no 
need  then  of  her  having  transformed  and  inspired 
him." 

305 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  Or  of  her  having  ^formed  and  idiotised  her- 
self," my  friend  subjoined. 

Oh,  how  it  sharpened  my  look !  "  No,  no — she 
wouldn't  need  that." 

"  The  great  point  is  that  he  wouldn't !  "  Mrs. 
Briss  laughed. 

I  kept  it  up.     "  She  would  do  perfectly." 

Mrs.  Briss  was  not  behind.  "  My  dear  man,  she 
has  got  to  do !  " 

This  was  brisker  still,  but  I  held  my  way.  "  Al- 
most anyone  would  do." 

It  seemed  for  a  little,  between  humour  and  sad- 
ness, to  strike  her.  "  Almost  anyone  would.  Still," 
she  less  pensively  declared,  "  we  want  the  right 
one." 

"Surely;  the  right  one" — I  could  only  echo  it. 
"  But  how,"  I  then  proceeded,  "  has  it  happily  been 
confirmed  to  you?  " 

It  pulled  her  up  a  trifle.     "  '  Confirmed  ' ?  " 

"  That  he's  her  lover." 

My  eyes  had  been  meeting  hers  without,  as  it 
were,  hers  quite  meeting  mine.  But  at  this  there 
had  to  be  intercourse.  "  By  my  husband." 

It  pulled  me  up  a  trifle.     "  Brissenden  knows?  " 

She  hesitated;  then,  as  if  at  rny  tone,  gave  a 
laugh.  "  Don't  you  suppose  I've  told  him?  " 

I  really  couldn't  but  admire  her.  "  Ah — so  you 
have  talked ! " 

It  didn't  confound  her.  "One's  husband  isn't 
306 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

talk.  You're  cruel  moreover,"  she  continued,  "  to 
my  joke.  It  was  Briss,  poor  dear,  who  talked — 
though,  I  mean,  only  to  me.  He  knows." 

I  cast  about.     "  Since  when?  " 

But  she  had  it  ready.     "  Since  this  evening." 

Once  more  I  couldn't  but  smile.  "  Just  in  time 
then !  And  the  way  he  knows ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  way !  " — she  had  at  this  a  slight  drop. 
But  she  came  up  again.  "  I  take  his  word." 

"  You  haven't  then  asked  him?  " 

"The  beauty  of  it  was — half  an  hour  ago,  up- 
stairs— that  I  hadn't  to  ask.  He  came  out  with  it 
himself,  and  that — to  give  you  the  whole  thing — 
was,  if  you  like,  my  moment.  He  dropped  it  on 
me,"  she  continued  to  explain,  "  without  in  the 
least,  sweet  innocent,  knowing  what  he  was  doing; 
more,  at  least,  that  is,  than  give  her  away." 

"  Which,"  I  concurred,  "  was  comparatively 
nothing ! " 

But  she  had  no  ear  for  irony,  and  she  made  out 
still  more  of  her  story.  "  He's  simple — but  he 
sees." 

"  And  when  he  sees  " — I  completed  the  picture — 
"  he  luckily  tells." 

She  quite  agreed  with  me  that  it  was  lucky,  but 
without  prejudice  to  his  acuteness  and  to  what  had 
been  in  him  moreover  a  natural  revulsion.  "  He 
has  seen,  in  short;  there  comes  some  chance  when 
one  does.  His,  as  luckily  as  you  please,  came  this 

307 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

evening.  If  you  ask  me  what  it  showed  him  you 
ask  more  than  I've  either  cared  or  had  time  to  ask. 
Do  you  consider,  for  that  matter  " — she  put  it  to 
me — "  that  one  does  ask?  "  As  her  high  smooth- 
ness— such  was  the  wonder  of  this  reascendancy — 
almost  deprived  me  of  my  means,  she  was  wise 
and  gentle  with  me.  "  Let  us  leave  it  alone." 

I  fairly,  while  my  look  at  her  turned  rueful, 
scratched  my  head.  "  Don't  you  think  it  a  little 
late  for  that?" 

"  Late  for  everything !  "  she  impatiently  said. 
"  But  there  you  are." 

I  fixed  the  floor.  There  indeed  I  was.  But  I 
tried  to  stay  there — just  there  only — as  short  a  time 
as  possible.  Something,  moreover,  after  all,  caught 
me  up.  "  But  if  Brissenden  already  knew ?  " 

"  If  he  knew ?  "     She  still  gave  me,  without 

prejudice  to  her  ingenuity— and  indeed  it  was  a  part 
of  this — all  the  work  she  could. 

"  Why,  that  Long  and  Lady  John  were  thick?  " 

"  Ah,  then,"  she  cried,  "  you  admit  they  are!  " 

"  Am  I  not  admitting  everything  you  tell  me? 
But  the  more  I  admit,"  I  explained,  "  the  more  I 
must  understand.  It's  to  admit,  you  see,  that  I  in- 
quire. If  Briss  came  down  with  Lady  John  yester- 
day to  oblige  Mr.  Long " 

"  He  didn't  come,"  she  interrupted,  "  to  oblige 
Mr.  Long!" 

"  Well,  then,  to  oblige  Lady  John  herself " 

308 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

"  He  didn't  come  to  oblige  Lady  John  herself !  " 

"  Well,  then,  to  oblige  his  clever  wife " 

"  He  didn't  come  to  oblige  his  clever  wife !  He 
came,"  said  Mrs.  Briss,  "  just  to  amuse  himself. 
He  has  his  amusements,  and  it's  odd,"  she  remark- 
ably laughed,  "  that  you  should  grudge  them  to 
him ! " 

"  It  would  be  odd  indeed  if  I  did !  But  put  his 
proceeding,"  I  continued,  "  on  any  ground  you 
like;  you  described  to  me  the  purpose  of  it  as  a 
screening  of  the  pair." 

"  I  described  to  you  the  purpose  of  it  as  nothing 
of  the  sort.  I  didn't  describe  to  you  the  purpose 
of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Briss,  "  at  all.  I  described  to  you," 
she  triumphantly  set  forth,  "  the  effect  of  it — which 
is  a  very  different  thing." 

I  could  only  meet  her  with  admiration.  "  You're 
of  an  astuteness !  " 

"  Of  course  I'm  of  an  astuteness !  I  see  effects. 
And  I  saw  that  one.  How  much  Briss  himself  had 
seen  it  is,  as  I've  told  you,  another  matter;  and  what 
he  had,  at  any  rate,  quite  taken  the  affair  for  was 
the  sort  of  flirtation  in  which,  if  one  is  a  friend  to 
either  party,  and  one's  own  feelings  are  not  at  stake, 
one  may  now  and  then  give  people  a  lift.  Haven't 
I  asked  you  before,"  she  demanded,  "  if  you  suppose 
he  would  have  given  one  had  he  had  an  idea  where 
these  people  are?  " 

"  I  scarce  know  what  you  have  asked  me  be- 
3°9 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

fore !  "  I  sighed;  "  and  '  where  they  are '  is  just  what 
you  haven't  told  me." 

"  It's  where  my  husband  was  so  annoyed  unmis- 
takably to  discover  them."  And  as  if  she  had  quite 
fixed  the  point  she  passed  to  another.  "  He's  pe- 
culiar, dear  old  Briss,  but  in  a  way  by  which,  if  one 
uses  him — by  which,  I  mean,  if  one  depends  on 
him — at  all,  one  gains,  I  think,  more  than  one  loses. 
Up  to  a  certain  point,  in  any  case  that's  the  least 
a  case  for  subtlety,  he  sees  nothing  at  all;  but  be- 
yond it — when  once  he  does  wake  up — he'll  go 
through  a  house.  Nothing  then  escapes  him,  and 
what  he  drags  to  light  is  sometimes  appalling." 

"Rather,"  I  thoughtfully  responded  —  "  since 
witness  this  occasion !  " 

"  But  isn't  the  interest  of  this  occasion,  as  I've 
already  suggested,"  she  propounded,  "  simply  that 
it  makes  an  end,  bursts  a  bubble,  rids  us  of  an  in- 
cubus and  permits  us  to  go  to  bed  in  peace?  I 
thank  God,"  she  moralised,  "  for  dear  old  Briss 
to-night." 

"  So  do  I,"  I  after  a  moment  returned;  "  but  I 
shall  do  so  with  still  greater  fervour  if  you'll  have 
for  the  space  of  another  question  a  still  greater 
patience."  With  which,  as  a  final  movement  from 
her  seemed  to  say  how  much  this  was  to  ask,  I  had 
on  my  own  side  a  certain  exasperation  of  soreness 
for  all  I  had  to  acknowledge — even  were  it  mere 
acknowledgment — that  she  had  brought  rattling 

310 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

down.  "  Remember,"  I  pleaded,  "  that  you're  cost- 
ing me  a  perfect  palace  of  thought ! " 

I  could  see  too  that,  held  unexpectedly  by  some- 
thing in  my  tone,  she  really  took  it  in.,  Couldn't 
I  even  almost  see  that,  for  an  odd  instant,  she  re- 
gretted the  blighted  pleasure  of  the  pursuit  of  truth 
with  me?  I  needed,  at  all  events,  no  better  proof 
either  of  the  sweet  or  of  the  bitter  in  her  compre- 
hension than  the  accent  with  which  she  replied : 
"  Oh,  those  who  live  in  glass  houses " 

"  Shouldn't — no,  I  know  they  shouldn't — throw 
stones;  and  that's  precisely  why  I  don't."  I  had 
taken  her  immediately  up,  and  I  held  her  by  it  and 
by  something  better  still.  "  You,  from  your  fortress 
of  granite,  can  chuck  them  about  as  you  will !  All 
the  more  reason,  however,"  I  quickly  added,  "  that, 
before  my  frail,  but,  as  I  maintain,  quite  sublime 
structure,  you  honour  me,  for  a  few  seconds,  with 
an  intelligent  look  at  it.  I  seem  myself  to  see  it 
again,  perfect  in  every  part,"  I  pursued,  "  even  while 
I  thus  speak  to  you,  and  to  feel  afresh  that,  weren't 
the  wretched  accident  of  its  weak  foundation,  it 
wouldn't  have  the  shadow  of  a  flaw.  I've  spoken 
of  it  in  my  conceivable  regret,"  I  conceded,  "  as 
already  a  mere  heap  of  disfigured  fragments;  but 
that  was  the  extravagance  of  my  vexation,  my  de- 
spair. It's  in  point  of  fact  so  beautifully  fitted  that 
it  comes  apart  piece  by  piece — which,  so  far  as  that 
goes,  you've  seen  it  do  in  the  last  quarter  of  an  hour 


THE  SACRED  FOUNT 

at  your  own  touch,  quite  handing  me  the  pieces,  one 
by  one,  yourself  and  watching  me  stack  them  along 
the  ground.  They're  not  even  in  this  state — see !  " 
I  wound  up — "  a  pile  of  ruins !  "  I  wound  up,  as 
I  say,  but  only  for  long  enough  to  have,  with  the 
vibration,  the  exaltation,  of  my  eloquence,  my 
small  triumph  as  against  her  great  one.  "  I  should 
almost  like,  piece  by  piece,  to  hand  them  back  to 
you."  And  this  time  I  completed  my  figure.  "  I 
believe  that,  for  the  very  charm  of  it,  you'd  find 
yourself  placing  them  by  your  own  sense  in  their 
order  and  rearing  once  more  the  splendid  pile.  Will 
you  take  just  one  of  them  from  me  again,"  I  insisted, 
"  and  let  me  see  if  only  to  have  it  in  your  hands 
doesn't  positively  start  you  off?  That's  what  I 
meant  just  now  by  asking  you  for  another  answer." 
She  had  remained  silent,  as  if  really  in  the  presence 
of  the  rising  magnificence  of  my  metaphor,  and  it 
was  not  too  late  for  the  one  chance  left  me. 
"  There  was  nothing,  you  know,  I  had  so  fitted  as 
your  account  of  poor  Mrs.  Server  when,  on  our  see- 
ing them,  from  the  terrace,  together  below,  you 
struck  off  your  explanation  that  old  Briss  was  her 
screen  for  Long." 

"Fitted?" — and  there  was  sincerity  in  her  sur- 
prise. "  I  thought  my  stupid  idea  the  one  for 
which  you  had  exactly  no  use !  " 

"  I  had  no  use,"  I  instantly  concurred,  "  for  your 
stupid  idea,  but  I  had  great  use  for  your  stupidly, 

312 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

alas !  having  it.  That  fitted  beautifully,"  I  smiled, 
"  till  the  piece  came  out.  And  even  now,"  I  added, 
"  I  don't  feel  it  quite  accounted  for." 

"  Their  being  there  together?  " 

"  No.     Your  not  liking  it  that  they  were." 

She  stared.     "  Not  liking  it?  " 

I  could  see  how  little  indeed  she  minded  now,  but 
I  also  kept  the  thread  of  my  own  intellectual  history. 
"  Yes.  Your  not  liking  it  is  what  I  speak  of  as  the 
piece.  I  hold  it,  you  see,  up  before  you.  What, 
artistically,  would  you  do  with  it?  " 

But  one  might  take  a  horse  to  water !  I 

held  it  up  before  her,  but  I  couldn't  make  her  look 
at  it.  "  How  do  you  know  what  I  mayn't,  or  may, 
have  liked?" 

It  did  bring  me  to.  "  Because  you  were  con- 
scious of  not  telling  me?  Well,  even  if  you 
didn't !" 

"  That  made  no  difference,"  she  inquired  with 
a  generous  derision,  "  because  you  could  always 
imagine?  Of  course  you  could  always  imagine — 
which  is  precisely  what  is  the  matter  with  you! 
But  I'm  surprised  at  your  coming  to  me  with  it 
once  more  as  evidence  of  anything." 

I  stood  rebuked,  and  even  more  so  than  I  showed 
her,  for  she  need,  obviously,  only  decline  to  take 
one  of  my  counters  to  deprive  it  of  all  value  as  coin. 
When  she  pushed  it  across  I  had  but  to  pocket  it 
again.  "  It  is  the  weakness  of  my  case,"  I  feebly 

313 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

and  I  daresay  awkwardly  mused  at  her,  "  that  any 
particular  thing  you  don't  grant  me  becomes 
straightway  the  strength  of  yours.  Of  course, 
however  " — and  I  gave  myself  a  shake — "  I'm  ab- 
solutely rejoicing  (am  I  not?)  in  the  strength  of 
yours.  The  weakness  of  my  own  is  what,  under 
your  instruction,  I'm  now  going  into;  but  don't  you 
see  how  much  weaker  it  will  show  if  I  draw  from 
you  the  full  expression  of  your  indifference?  How 
could  you  in  fact  care  when  what  you  were  at  the 
very  moment  urging  on  me  so  hard  was  the  ex- 
travagance of  Mrs.  Server's  conduct?  That  extrav- 
agance then  proved  her,  to  your  eyes,  the  woman 
who  had  a  connection  with  Long  to  keep  the  world 
off  the  scent  of — though  you  maintained  that  in 
spite  of  the  dust  she  kicked  up  by  it  she  was,  at  a 
pinch,  now  and  then  to  be  caught  with  him.  That 
instead  of  being  caught  with  him  she  was  caught 
only  with  Brissenden  annoyed  you  naturally  for  the 
moment;  but  what  was  that  annoyance  compared 
to  your  appreciation  of  her  showing — by  undertak- 
ing your  husband,  of  all  people! — just  the  more 
markedly  as  extravagant?  " 

She  had  been  sufficiently  interested  this  time  to 
follow  me.  "  What  was  it  indeed?  " 

I  greeted  her  acquiescence,  but  I  insisted.  "  And 
yet  if  she  is  extravagant — what  do  you  do  with  it?  " 

"  I  thought  you  wouldn't  hear  of  it ! "  she  ex- 
claimed. 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

I  sought  to  combine  firmness  with  my  mildness. 
"  What  do  you  do  with  it?  " 

But  she  could  match  me  at  this.  "  I  thought 
you  wouldn't  hear  of  it !  " 

"  It's  not  a  question  of  my  dispositions.  It's  a 
question  of  her  having  been,  or  not  been,  for  you 
'  all  over  the  place/  and  of  everyone's  also  being,  for 
you,  on  the  chatter  about  it.  You  go  by  that  in 
respect  to  Long — by  your  holding,  that  is,  that 
nothing  has  been  noticed;  therefore  mustn't  you  go 
by  it  in  respect  to  her — since  I  understand  from  you 
that  everything  has?" 

"  Everything  always  is,"  Mrs.  Briss  agreeably  re- 
plied, "  in  a  place  and  a  party  like  this;  but  so  little 
— anything  in  particular — that,  with  people  moving 
'  every  which  '  way,  it  comes  to  the  same  as  if  noth- 
ing was.  Things  are  not,  also,  gouged  out  to  your 
tune,  and  it  depends,  still  further,  on  what  you  mean 
by  '  extravagant.' ' 

"  I  mean  whatever  you  yourself  meant." 

"  Well,  I  myself  mean  no  longer,  you  know, 
what  I  did  mean." 

"  She  isn't  then ?  " 

But  suddenly  she  was  almost  sharp  with  me. 
"Isn't  what?" 

"  What  the  woman  we  so  earnestly  looked  for 
would  have  to  be." 

"  All  gone?  "  She  had  hesitated,  but  she  went 
on  with  decision.  "  No,  she  isn't  all  gone,  since 

3*5 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

there  was  enough  of  her  left  to  make  up  to  poor 
Briss." 

"  Precisely — and  it's  just  what  we  saw,  and  just 
what,  with  her  other  dashes  of  the  same  sort,  led 
us  to  have  to  face  the  question  of  her  being — well, 
what  I  say.  Or  rather,"  I  added,  "  what  you  say. 
That  is,"  I  amended,  to  keep  perfectly  straight, 
"  what  you  say  you  don't  say." 

I  took  indeed  too  many  precautions  for  my  friend 
not  to  have  to  look  at  them.  "  Extravagant? " 
The  irritation  of  the  word  had  grown  for  her,  yet  I 
risked  repeating  it,  and  with  the  effect  of  its  giving 
her  another  pause.  "  I  tell  you  she  isn't  that !  " 

"  Exactly;  and  it's  only  to  ask  you  what  in  the 
world  then  she  is." 

"  She's  horrid !  "  said  Mrs.  Briss. 

"  '  Horrid  '?  "  I  gloomily  echoed. 

"  Horrid.  It  wasn't,"  she  then  developed  with 
decision,  "  a  '  dash,'  as  you  say, '  of  the  same  sort ' — 
though  goodness  knows  of  what  sort  you  mean :  it 
wasn't,  to  be  plain,  a  '  dash '  at  all."  My  compan- 
ion was  plain.  "  She  settled.  She  stuck."  And 
finally,  as  I  could  but  echo  her  again :  "  She  made 
love  to  him." 

«  But— a— really?  " 

"  Really.     That's  how  I  knew." 

I  was  at  sea.     "  '  Knew  '?     But  you  saw." 

"  I  knew — that  is  I  learnt — more  than  I  saw.  I 
knew  she  couldn't  be  gone." 

316 


THE   SACRED   FOUNT 

It  in  fact  brought  light.     "  Knew  it  by  him?  " 

"  He  told  me,"  said  Mrs.  Briss. 

It  brought  light,  but  it  brought  also,  I  fear,  for 
me,  another  queer  grimace.  "  Does  he  then  regu- 
larly tell?" 

"  Regularly.  But  what  he  tells,"  she  did  herself 
the  justice  to  declare,  "  is  not  always  so  much  to  the 
point  as  the  two  things  I've  repeated  to  you." 

Their  weight  then  suggested  that  I  should  have 
them  over  again.  "  His  revelation,  in  the  first 
place,  of  Long  and  Lady  John?  " 

"  And  his  revelation  in  the  second  " — she  spoke 
of  it  as  a  broad  joke — "  of  May  Server  and  him- 
self." 

There  was  something  in  her  joke  that  was  a  chill 
to  my  mind;  but  I  nevertheless  played  up.  "And 
what  does  he  say  that's  further  interesting  about 
that?  " 

"  Why,  that  she's  awfully  sharp." 

I  gasped — she  turned  it  out  so.  "  She — Mrs. 
Server?  " 

It  made  her,  however,  equally  stare.  "  Why, 
isn't  it  the  very  thing  you  maintained?" 

I  felt  her  dreadful  logic,  but  I  couldn't — with  my 
exquisite  image  all  contrasted,  as  in  a  flash  from 
flint,  with  this  monstrosity — so  much  as  entertain 
her  question.  I  could  only  stupidly  again  sound 
it.  "Awfully  sharp?" 

"You  after  all  then  now  don't?"     It  was  she 


THE   SACRED  FOUNT 

herself  whom  the  words  at  present  described! 
"  Then  what  on  earth  do  you  think?  "  The  strange 
mixture  in  my  face  naturally  made  her  ask  it,  but 
everything,  within  a  minute,  had  somehow  so  given 
way  under  the  touch  of  her  supreme  assurance,  the 
presentation  of  her  own  now  finished  system,  that  I 
dare  say  I  couldn't  at  the  moment  have  in  the  least 
trusted  myself  to  tell  her.  She  left  me,  however, 
in  fact,  small  time — she  only  took  enough,  with  her 
negations  arrayed  and  her  insolence  recaptured,  to 
judge  me  afresh,  which  she  did  as  she  gathered  her- 
self up  into  the  strength  of  twenty-five.  I  didn't 
after  all — it  appeared  part  of  my  smash — know  the 
weight  of  her  husband's  years,  but  I  knew  the 
weight  of  my  own.  They  might  have  been  a  thou- 
sand, and  nothing  but  the  sense  of  them  would  in 
a  moment,  I  saw,  be  left  me.  "  My  poor  dear,  you 
are  crazy,  and  I  bid  you  good-night !  " 

Nothing  but  the  sense  of  them — on  my  taking 
it  from  her  without  a  sound  and  watching  her, 
through  the  lighted  rooms,  retreat  and  disappear — 
was  at  first  left  me;  but  after  a  minute  something 
else  came,  and  I  grew  conscious  that  her  verdict 
lingered.  She  had  so  had  the  last  word  that,  to  get 
out  of  its  planted  presence,  I  shook  myself,  as  I  had 
done  before,  from  my  thought.  When  once  I  had 
started  to  my  room  indeed — and  to  preparation  for 
a  livelier  start  as  soon  as  the  house  should  stir  again 
— I  almost  breathlessly  hurried.  Such  a  last  word 

318 


THE  SACRED   FOUNT 

— the  word  that  put  me  altogether  nowhere — was 
too  unacceptable  not  to  prescribe  afresh  that  prompt 
test  of  escape  to  other  air  for  which  I  had  earlier 
in  the  evening  seen  so  much  reason.  I  should  cer- 
tainly never  again,  on  the  spot,  quite  hang  together, 
even  though  it  wasn't  really  that  I  hadn't  three 
times  her  method.  What  I  too  fatally  lacked  was 
her  tone. 


THE   END 


319 


